For Gentlemen Only
by Oscillating Fan
Summary: Stan is looking for something new and Craig is already beyond the high school drama scene.  Slash, obviously, StanxCraig/CraigxStan, whichever way you want to look at it.
1. Call the Police

For Gentlemen Only

Chapter One: Call the Police

Stan Marsh is ready for a change. He just doesn't know what it is yet. Craig really – and he means _really_ – doesn't care about all of this high school drama bullshit.

* * *

><p>It wasn't a rainy day, Sunday, some stupid ass holiday, or Randomly-Inspirational-Guest-Speaker-in-Psychology Day. No school sponsored social events coming up, football wasn't particularly hard or easy at the moment, and even the usual craziness in South Park wasn't interfering. The point is it was a Thursday morning in November when Stan Marsh found himself leaning up against his locker watching Wendy Testaburger approaching him in what he dubbed as her Catholic School Girl Face.<p>

He took a deep breath and gave her only the slightest of smiles to which she naturally beamed right back at him. Immaculately pressed pleated skirt, polo, and a pair of Mary Janes – check. She only wore this outfit when it was time to break up. If Stan had even bothered to keep up with the count after the Spring Fling of freshman year… yeah, he had no idea how many times this had happened. As randomly as their break-ups _appeared_ to happen Stan wasn't ignorant to the fact that a pattern established itself long ago. Once it was over with Wendy there would be a couple of weeks with Red. Red would then get infuriatingly annoying and Millie would come along until a month later when Stan got bored and decided to mix it up with either Holly or Annie.

It never came to sex, no matter how long the cycle went on or the innuendo his teammates took it upon themselves to insinuate. He knew it was kind of a dick move to not make any effort to set them straight, which had actually caused a few break-ups in the past. Frankly, he didn't care and it was very obvious deep inside his gut as Wendy finally got to his locker and placed a hand on his shoulder that this was the start of a much deeper issue.

"Hey, Stan," she chimed and avoided direct eye contact. "We need to talk."

"Yeah," he mentally laughed to himself. _You aren't fooling anyone._

"We've been trying to make it work again and," she blinked and tucked some of her hair behind her ears, "it just isn't working out. You know?"

Glancing over her shoulder, Stan spied Red peeking at them from behind her locker door. Passing her in the hall, Millie and Annie eyed the scene surveying the redundant cues that their turn was coming up. Stan sighed yet still managed to keep his smile on his face, impressing even himself. "I know."

"Great," Wendy finally looked him in the eye. _We're just going round and round._ "I'm glad you understand."

"I've always understood," he found himself saying before he could stop himself. "In fact, this is so expected it's almost enough to make me laugh."

She furrowed her brows at the same time traffic came to a complete halt around them. "What was that, Stanley?"

"Did you know that we 'try again' every five months?"

She let out a short laugh and looked around nervously. "Oh?"

"Yeah, and frankly I'm getting a little sick of it."

She had the nerve to look genuinely taken aback which momentarily made Stan feel like the biggest jack ass in the history of ever.

"Listen," he stood away from his locker and dropped his smile. "You're great, the girl after you is great, and the one after her is too. Don't – " he raised a finger before she could start some indignant protest " – start trying to deny you didn't know I went with others after you. What I'm trying to say is that I'm sick of the routine."

Wendy looked around to the other equally baffled girls. They all wore identical looks of hurtful surprise.

"What are you trying to say, Stan?"

He calmly looked at each one of the girls before returning to Wendy.

"I'm trying to say that this break up is the last one," he looked across at all the other girls now crowding nearby Red's locker. "And I won't be going to anyone else. At least not for a while."

He let the hissing wave of murmurs and groups of gossiping girls roll off his shoulders as he collected his books for his first couple of class periods. When he had shut his locker door Wendy came in real close.

"If you aren't going to keep up your multitude of girls you shack up with," she hissed, "what other option do you have?"

Stan smiled at her and tucked his pencil behind his right ear.

"I'm going to try being on my own for a while. See what happens."

Wendy huffed and crossed her arms as he began to walk away. "Like that'll last, Stan. You're no different from all the other jocks at this shithole of a school."

"Maybe its time to be a bit of an innovator," he shrugged before turning on his heels and heading towards his first class of the day. The halls were filled with conversations about his and Wendy's break up and Stan really wished that the students of Park County High School had something better to talk about.

"Dude," Kyle appeared in front of him just before he got to the math hall. His hair was wind whipped looking like he just hauled ass from the student parking lot to intercept Stan before class.

"Okay," Stan was genuinely frustrated at this point. "How the hell did it spread to the _parking lot_ already? We fucking broke up less than five minutes ago."

Kyle waved his hand dismissively in Stan's direction. "That's not it. What's this about you saying the entire female population at this school isn't good enough for you?"

Stan squint his eyes and laughed in disbelief. "What the hell? I didn't say that exactly."

"But in so many words?" Kyle raised an eyebrow.

"Since when did you start caring about social protocols?"

"Let's see," he mockingly tapped his lips in thought, "since my super best friend, the super best football athlete, just ousted himself as a whore?"

"Who uses the word 'oust' anymore?"

"Focus, Stan," Kyle sighed in exasperation. "Listen, is there anything I can do?"

"Do? Like what?"

Kyle shrugged. "Like talking to Wendy. You know, help with some damage control."

Stan was starting to feel annoyed. "Okay, I know I'm not super smart like you Mr. First-in-Class but what exactly is this damage that needs to be controlled?"

Kyle glared at him. "You're telling me you don't care that all the girls are passing us by, right now as we speak, glaring daggers at you and calling you a trashy woman hater?"

Stan laughed loudly. "Trashy. A woman hater. Nice."

"_Stan_," Kyle hissed.

"Right, right," Stan held up his free hand in defense. "I don't care what they call me, Kyle. It's fine. I'm just tired of dating a girl, breaking up with her, then going for another one, then another."

"You're a teenager and there are slim pickings here," Kyle blinked.

"Right, but I keep going in a pattern. Haven't you noticed?"

Kyle nodded. "Of course, I'm not stupid. But is it okay? Really okay to… abstain?"

Stan laughed again. "Yes, Kyle. I just want to take some time to focus on other stuff. Mom and Dad keep hinting that it's time to get ready for college. Coach wants me to step up in football. There are other things going on. I don't need a girlfriend."

Kyle nodded along as Stan listed his reasons until the last part. He screwed up his face and shook his head.

"You don't need a girlfriend? Are you sure you aren't sick?"

Stan sighed and waited for the shock on Kyle's face to fade.

"Is it really so bad of an idea, Kyle? Aren't you always teasing me to focus on school instead of skirts?"

"Whose skirts are we focusing on," Kenny jumped on Stan's back almost causing him to topple over face first. "Frankly, I am loving the one Bebe is wearing today. Fucking hot mini skirt."

"She'll get called to the office for being out of dress code, just you watch it," Kyle crossed his arms.

"Oh, I'll be watching," Kenny made some rude noises and wriggled around obscenely on Stan's back causing him to be unceremoniously dropped on the linoleum floor. "Ouch, someone's being a bitch today. And for a bitch hater that's something else."

Stan groaned in frustration, looking to Kyle for support only to get one of his super best friend's Adult Faces. Stan was starting to hate all these faces.

"Look, I'm done with the cycle so I'm going stag for a while. That's not a bad thing," Stan looked meaningfully at Kyle. "Now if you'll excuse me I have class."

Stan looked back at Kyle and Kenny as he made his way into his math class. Only a few students were in the classroom at this hour and he quickly made his way to his seat right in front of Craig Tucker. They nodded to each other as Stan sat down and settled in for an hour and a half of equations. The bell wasn't even scheduled to ring for another ten minutes but Stan didn't think he could stand there in the middle of the hall and defend himself to his friends.

They were his friends; he shouldn't _have_ to defend himself. The frustrating part was that Kyle didn't even ask him why. He only wanted to know if it was okay for him to behave like this. If Kyle had asked him why, did Stan really have an answer? He was tired of the circus, sure. That was pretty obvious. But maybe it was a little more than that. He noticed that it was only the same few girls he kept dating. He wasn't interested in any of the few others there were floating around that he still hadn't asked out. He had a policy of not asking out Bebe mostly because of her reputation, but they had made out at a few parties in the past.

Why did he even do that? He was beginning to think it was peer pressure. He just asked a girl out when his father, mother, or friend asked "You seeing anyone lately?" He flipped open his notebook to the back and sketched a quick chart.

Wendy. Why did he keep going to Wendy? She was friendly. She almost always did his homework when he didn't care or was too wrapped up in practice. But she was also clingy, constantly wanting him to input his opinions in conversations that he didn't really care about, and the past few times had become physically aggressive. He had heard rumors about her and Token and it was looking like it was true about them hooking up after South Park's Fourth of July festivities.

Red. Why did he go to Red? She usually lasted only two weeks and most of that was making out on her parents' couch, in the parking lot, or between breaks at games. When she began insisting he meet her parents that was usually the cue to end things.

Millie just liked being paraded around school on his arm. She was kind of a prude in public and private unless they were at a party then she had the second loosest set of lips in the entire school (Bebe was first.) That was usually what disgusted him so badly about her and caused him to break it off.

Holly was all right. She was more of a locker-sharer, sit at their own table during lunch, and borrow the parents' car to drive out to Denver for shopping. Stan more often than not found himself incredibly bored with her and broke it up pretty quickly unless his mother started up the "She's such a nice girl" routine.

Annie was a bit different. She wanted Stan to just be around her and no one else. She would call at the worst possible moments, random times during the night, and sob uncontrollably when he stopped ignoring her. He kind of thought of her as a stalker but she was perfect for keeping other girls at bay. Annie tended to try to scratch other girls' eyes out when they were together.

The table was getting a little out of hand as he filled out a list of attributes he liked and didn't about each girl he had dated until he realized something was missing.

"None of them are attractive," he murmured under his breath.

"What was that, Mr. Marsh?"

Stan looked up, startled to see that class had already begun and apparently some time ago. Half the class and their teacher were all looking at him, the chalkboard full of math problems.

"Oh, I… sorry for interrupting." He looked down at his notebook without really seeing what he had written. For the rest of the class period he pondered over his realization while only half listening to the lesson.

He didn't find a single one of the girls in his grade or school attractive and Stan was a little baffled over what that meant.

* * *

><p>A man's worth can be measured in the amount of friends he has. Craig Tucker has a lot of these so called friends, but lately they all had been hanging out together more often which made Craig feel slightly suffocated. As soon as he got to school he headed to his locker to empty the contents of his messenger bag and pull out the books he needed for the first couple of periods. Clyde, Token, and Tweek were approaching from one side and Kevin the other.<p>

_Great_, Craig thought, _I'm surrounded._

"Hey, Craig," Clyde grinned. "You just missed the recent Testaburger-Marsh break up."

"So today's Thursday," Craig mumbled aloud and reached for his Trig book.

Token, Clyde, and Kevin laughed thinking Craig was making a joke. Tweek fidgeted with the straps of his backpack. "Oh man, it went differently this time. I was freaking out!"

"Right," Clyde snapped his fingers, "usually she wears that one outfit with the skirt and polo to break up with him then Red swoops in and the next thing you know its PDA city for two and a half weeks. But this time he basically tells the whole female student population to fuck off."

Craig stuffed his things back into his messenger bag and closed his locker door. "Oh."

Kevin laughed, taking Craig's none-too-subtle tone to fuck off as passing interest in the latest gossip. "Right, so now all the girls are grouping up and grumbling because Stan Marsh wants to go stag for a while. Ridiculous, huh?" Kevin shook his head.

Craig hung his bag around his shoulder and shrugged before heading off to his first period Trig class. The others filed in a cluster around him talking about the news and laughing with other students passing by asking "Did you hear?" Craig really didn't give a fuck one way or another. His friends all broke off when he reached his first class with a "See you later" as he entered the room.

More of the hallway buzz bounced around the room as students grouped together. They kept stealing glances at Stan Marsh standing just outside in the hallway with his friends and whispering behind their hands. Craig mentally sighed and steadily made his way to his seat. _I swear to God, if one person even thinks of getting me to pass a note today I'll break their neck. Detention be damned_, he thought as he took his seat. He had just gotten his notebook and book out when Stan Marsh walked into the room and made a beeline for his seat directly in front of him. The football player nodded in greeting which Craig reciprocated.

They had always been like that since middle school. Craig did his best to keep to himself and out of the focus of his fellow students. It was extremely difficult when you had friends like Clyde Donovan and Token Black, however. Clyde was on the football team with Stan and a surprisingly good player too. Clyde was also a natural crowd pleaser and somewhere along the way to high school he and Token had established themselves in the same light Stan and Kyle Broflovski did. Kevin was involved in various activities and Tweek has always been infamous for his quirkiness.

Craig wasn't sure if his friends really knew it or not but he just did not give a fuck about who was dating who, who got busted at the last party for underage drinking, or what horrible betrayal was inflicted between two friends. Usually it was over a girl. Usually it was stupid, old, and a cliché. Craig was sick of it. He still managed to exclude himself from pep rallies, games, and dances. He also got out of most parties. The only times he attended was to give Clyde or Kevin a ride. The only reason he did even _that_ was because they paid for his gas in cash upfront.

Looking around the class room just as the bell rang; he noticed one of the Goth kids from North Park staring dreamily at him again. He turned his gaze back to the chalk board and dutifully opened his notebook, impassive expression permanently etched on his face. It was going to be a long day, he could already tell. The lesson wasn't all that hard, he had actually developed this habit over the past few months of working ahead through all his textbooks using homework as an excuse to see less and less of his friends. He was just ready to get the fuck out of South Park and on with the rest of his life.

Craig felt his gaze focusing less on the board and more on the back of Stan Marsh's head. Why was he always the hot topic of conversation when he and one of his stupid on-again-off-again girlfriends broke up? He wasn't jealous, just annoyed that any little thing the guy did was seen as some great gesture or original move. _That Stan Marsh is so cool_, they'd say when sharing stories about a weekend kegger or the game last week. Stan had been a pretty level headed kid when they were younger and didn't seem to have changed too much.

Until today, that is. Craig thought it was ridiculous how the girls were reacting. What did it matter that he didn't want any of them hanging around him all the time? The girls at their school were all ridiculously annoying to Craig. He had no idea how it was Stan could stand to be with them back to back. What did he see in them? Was their clinginess appealing? Did he like how they shared stories about their experiences with him, completely shameless of the fact he had been with them all?

"None of them are attractive," he heard Stan murmur under his breath. Craig almost feared he had asked his question out loud. It wasn't possible that he had spoken himself but he knew Stan had been thinking about the same things he was.

"What was that, Mr. Marsh?"

Stan looked startled as he addressed their teacher. "Oh, I… sorry for interrupting." He looked back down and the teacher gave him a stern look before resuming class. Craig studied the set of Stan's shoulders and felt stupid. Here he was mentally berating the student population and his friends' obsessive interest in Stan Marsh while doing his own analysis of his actions.

_Fuck it_, he thought. _It has not a damn thing to do with me._

When the bell finally rang for dismissal Craig collected his things. His eyes almost instinctively followed as Stan walked out of the classroom. He placed both palms on the top of his desk and looked down.

_It isn't any of my business_, he thought. _I have nothing to do with it and won't._

Craig let out a shaky breath and got up from his seat, nearly bumping into the Goth kid from North Park as he did.

"Hey," the kid said gloomily but Craig could tell he was making an effort at it.

Craig mentally groaned. Some time during freshman year the Goth kids had made him into something like their hero. He knew why but it still annoyed the shit out of him. Especially since it only got worse each year.

"Yeah," Craig responded and immediately regretted it as this came across as encouragement to speak for the kid.

"Wow, um. Whatever, we were wondering," he nodded to a few other Goth kids waiting in the hallway, looking as anxious as Goth kids could while trying to maintain their reputation. "We were wondering if we could help out or, you know, whatever on your Photography project."

Photography. That was the one thing about Park County High School that did not suck so much. Craig got to handle some serious film and photography equipment. To save on money, the Photography students shared space and funding with the Newspaper and Yearbook groups. This meant that while Craig could really explore new things through the lens, he also had to capture moments of student life for the periodicals. The teacher in charge of them understood Craig was more of a loner, so he only asked that Craig capture day to day moments of student life. It was easy for Craig, just show up once every six weeks with his camera and students just flocked to him to get their photo taken. Those days were the longest of his life, but he made a passing grade and still got to experiment with his video equipment.

"Pass," he blinked.

The kid and his friends visibly deflated.

"Thanks, though," Craig lamely added. This seemed to have softened his rejection. The Goth kids nodded or gave small smiles before waving and leaving. Craig leaned against his desk for a moment. Sometimes he surprised even himself.

"Craig, dude," Token stuck his head though the doorframe. "You coming to English?"

"Yeah," he sighed and put on his bag before heading out the door.

"Man, you should have heard Heidi in Chemistry this morning," Token laughed as they made their way towards their next class. "She and Wendy are leading some anti-Marsh coalition now or something."

_Honestly_, Craig thought irritably as he gazed disinterestedly ahead, _I don't give a fuck._

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** This story has been getting worked on for a few months now. I wanted to get several chapters done first before posting and I'm there! This story is going to be a bit drawn out and take its time but I hope it'll be worth it in the end. I don't really know whether to call this a StanxCraig or CraigxStan, but frankly that doesn't matter. Anyway, hope you enjoyed!


	2. Subtleties in the Dark

For Gentlemen Only

Chapter Two: Subtleties in the Dark

Stan follows more than he leads these days. Craig is nobody's crutch.

* * *

><p>Four months had passed since his break up with Wendy and things were definitely improving for Stan Marsh. Almost immediately after that day's first class period the girls tried getting his attention but he stuck to his plan. At first it was no girls until the end of football season and for the first time in a while the team got all the way to Regionals. Since that had worked out so well Stan decided to extend his plan all the way through Spring Break. For the first time in a long time he had a full week to just chill with Kyle, Kenny, and Cartman. Even Cartman was showing some respect towards him and mellowed out. He was probably waiting to see if Stan would cave but he never did.<p>

Now everyone was getting ready to go back to school, but before that some kid in North Park was throwing a party. Some sort of last hurrah before the end of the school year. Stan decided that instead of actively trying to steer clear of the possibility of dating he'd ease back towards it. He didn't want to leave the party with a girl; that would be too much. Instead, he decided he wanted to feel out some of them. Just test the waters and see if anyone had really changed. To see if _he_ had changed.

As he checked his hair in the mirror above his dresser he found himself frowning at the thought. He sincerely doubted anyone had changed but Kyle's car horn beeped twice from the curb and he pushed the depressing thought aside to join him.

By the time they got to the party it was already in full swing. There weren't enough kids in each town to fill up their own high school so all the towns sent their students to the same county high school. Stan vaguely knew this North Park kid from the basketball team with Kyle. They parked Kyle's car then made their way through the maze of hastily parked vehicles to the house.

There was the typical exchange of yelling between teammates reunited after a week away from one another. Stan and Kyle made their way through the halls of the house and located the kitchen where an assortment of drinks was laid out. Kyle made for the booze and normally Stan would follow suit but for some reason he went for a Coke first. Kyle raised an eyebrow at him but Clyde swooped in and distracted him with talk of some impromptu basketball game going on outside of the garage.

"You coming, dude?" Kyle and Clyde asked him. Stan shook his head.

"You guys go on. I'll catch up."

Kyle frowned a little but followed Clyde who resumed an excited replay of the previous game while the two headed back out the door. Stan left the kitchen and wandered into the living room where some couples and most of the girls were dancing to loud music. Someone had given this party a lot of thought and set up some cheap colored lights around the room. They twirled, rotated, and flashed off and on playing different effects on the dancers.

Stan was about to turn around and head after Kyle when one of the lights bounced off a pair of blue-gray eyes from the other side of the room. For a moment he thought it was a cat but when some normal lights pointed in that direction he saw it was Craig Tucker. He was leaning back against the wall as he usually did at parties. Stan laughed to himself. Clyde and Kevin Stoley probably begged him to drive them out to this party. He didn't know why but before he realized it his feet were taking him through the crowd of dancers in Craig's direction.

"Hey," Stan smiled as he approached Craig. "I saw you hanging over here by yourself and hope you don't mind if I join you?"

Craig gazed evenly back at Stan and nodded. "Aren't I lucky."

Stan laughed and leaned against the wall. They stood silently next to each other surveying the party scene. He hadn't known what to think when Kyle first suggested they show up but now that he was here, looking around at everyone else, he wished he had stayed home. That was how everything had been the past few months.

It was scandalous that Stan Marsh didn't take anyone to Homecoming. His absence at the Christmas Dance had supposedly nearly incited a riot. He knew he should feel flattered but when Kenny came over laughing about it, tipsy from his own efforts to spike the punch, Stan found he only felt disgust. Disgust with the girls for acting that way, disgust that his friends thought it was funny, and disgust that this had become a situation at all. He decided over the holiday break that if there was some sort of social event and Kyle asked him about it three times, he would make an appearance. Being on your own was supposed to be empowering, self-revolutionary but Stan only felt like an emotionless sheep. He was beginning to feel like Raven again.

"You don't have to hang here," Craig glanced over at him. "You know how I am at these things."

Stan looked Craig directly in the eye, astonished that the taller of the two took some initiative and spoke to him. He offered Craig another smile and said, "I don't mind."

Craig studied him for a moment with his even stare and dipped his head slightly before facing the crowd again. Stan took a sip from his bottle of Coke and watched the crowd of dancers as the songs changed. A lot of people were getting drunker as one song melted into another. Before too long they were pairing off to retreat to dark corners and Stan found he didn't have anything to think about that. He supposed that half an hour went by before he noticed the guys who must have been playing basketball outside made their way back in. Some girls were giggling around most of them while others were dragged off by the remaining ones Stan assumed were their girlfriends.

Craig made a clicking sound with his tongue that startled Stan out of his reverie.

"Those idiots making me wait around for nothing," Craig hissed through his teeth and Stan glanced at him before following his gaze. Clyde was shamelessly groping a blonde on the dance floor and Stan barely had enough time to register who Kevin was marching upstairs with before Craig stood upright. "I'm leaving."

"Back to town?"

"Yeah," Craig glanced at him as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his navy blue hoodie to pull out his car keys.

"Can I get a ride?"

Craig raised an eyebrow. "You want to ditch a party?"

Stan frowned a little at Craig. It almost sounded like he was accusing him of something.

"I didn't know you cared about social faux pas," he couldn't suppress the slight teasing tone his voice took.

Craig's eyes shone briefly with amusement before he twirled his keys around his finger. "Come on then."

Stan set his empty bottle down and followed Craig outside to his car without looking back for Kyle once. He hadn't seen Craig's car before but somehow wasn't surprised to see it was a dirty blue Honda Accord that was at least ten years old. Paint was peeling on the roof and hood, there was a long, thin crack snaking its way down the passenger side of the windshield and it was missing a hubcap. Stan smiled at it.

"What's so funny?" Craig paused before unlocking the driver's side door. "You laughing at my car?"

"No," Stan tried to suppress his laughter. "I was just thinking that it suited you somehow."

Again Craig gave him a slightly inquisitive look. "How does a car suit someone? It's just a fucking piece of metal."

Stan openly laughed this time. "I don't know, dude. It just does, okay?"

Craig grunted and unlocked his door before leaning over to unlock the passenger side. Stan climbed in and the two settled in their seatbelts before Craig started the car. It took ten minutes to weave through the maze of pick-ups and sedans before they got on their way back to South Park. Craig's car looked a little junky on the outside but Stan could tell he took care of it. The inside was clean and he had even invested in a pretty nice looking stereo.

"Didn't know you like music. What kind of CDs do you have?" Stan calculated it would take about half an hour to get back to town.

Craig tapped the armrest between them and Stan flipped it open and ran his finger down the spines of neatly arranged jewel cases. Craig's tastes in music were rather eclectic ranging from some of Stan's favorite rock bands to a few pop albums from when they were in middle school to movie soundtracks. In fact, there were a lot of movie soundtracks but Stan had to comment on the last case in the compartment.

"Scottish bagpipes?" Stan grinned.

"Gag gift from Clyde last Christmas. He had himself deluded that I'd blare that shit in the school parking lot. Like I want or need that kind of attention."

Stan laughed. "Sounds a little familiar to me. You know the Goth kids kind of have a crush on you?"

This made Craig laugh. Only it was more like a sharp exhale but a small smirk was playing on his lips. Stan felt some weird energy shoot through him at the sight and couldn't stop himself from pushing the topic. Maybe Craig would do it again…

"I was in art class with one of them last semester and – oh, sweet, I like these guys – anyway, one of them was saying they wished they were in Photography. I asked them why—"

"Wait, you actually talk to them?" Craig glanced at him briefly while Stan inserted his chosen CD and cued it to his favorite track.

"Yeah, they started calling me Raven again. But I asked why he wanted to be in Photography and he said it was because you were in it."

Stan heard Craig make an amused noise without tearing his eyes from the road.

"We were all getting ready for the art show and he showed me some of your entries. They were actually pretty good."

He watched as Craig's shoulders tensed slightly. "You saw them?"

"Yeah," Stan looked out the side window, resting his elbow on the ledge and putting his chin to his hand. "I liked the black and whites better at the time."

"At the time?"

"Well, I was checking them out with a Goth kid. But in all seriousness they're really good."

Stan's ears pricked at the sound of Craig's exhaling laugh. Eventually all he could hear was the chorus thrumming through the speakers, Craig's thumb and index finger tapping the steering wheel in time, and the rush of wind as they barreled down the highway. Even though he was facing the wooded scenery flying past his window he was focused more on the faint reflection in the glass of Craig. He thought about the full conversation he had with the Goth kid as they looked at Craig's photography and felt himself agreeing with most of what was said.

"_He's chill, you know," the kid had said. "Doesn't let any of the petty teenage drama phase him. He just disappears into the wall."_

_Stan had nodded. "But he doesn't disappear. He gets a lot of attention from people. They're just too intimidated to go up to him. The girls think he's the hottest guy in our class."_

"_I'd have to agree," the Goth kid sighed and they returned to class._

Being in this close proximity to him he did see what was fascinating about something as superficial as his looks and the scent of his body spray. He felt his cell phone vibrate halfway during their journey and knew it was Kyle.

"You gonna get that, Marsh?"

Stan didn't even so much as glance away from the window as he pulled out his phone and received the call.

"Hey."

"Where the hell are you, dude?" Kyle sounded like he was trying to maneuver away from the music back at the party.

"I caught a ride with Craig."

Kyle must have finally found a quiet place and made a confused sound. "You ran off with Craig Tucker?"

Stan glanced at Craig, who looked incredibly amused and briefly met eyes with Stan. Stan almost involuntarily shuddered. For just a moment, a single word flashed through his consciousness but he shoved it down before it could complicate the hazy swirl of emotions already inside him. He took a deep, steadying breath and forced himself to focus on the phone conversation.

"The party was boring; Craig was leaving, so I asked for a ride."

"The party was boring?" Kyle sounded slightly exasperated and Stan wanted to groan in frustration. "Stan, what the hell has been going on with you? You're different since your last break up with Wendy, dude."

Stan sighed inwardly. "I don't want to have this conversation again, Kyle. It's nothing to be worried about. I'm hanging up now." He cut off Kyle's reply and shoved his phone back into his pocket. Only a few seconds passed before his phone vibrated again.

"You sure you shouldn't get that?"

"It isn't important."

Craig said nothing in response. Stan resumed looking out the window, noting how the reflection of Craig visibly relaxed as silence fell between them. It was an easy silence that Stan found he could get used to.

* * *

><p>Craig would be lying to himself if he said the first thing he didn't do when he got home from dropping off Stan was to fish out his photography from the art show. He neatly spread them out side by side and studied them for a while before catching himself and shoving them back into a drawer. What the hell just happened?<p>

School began flying by as it tends to after Spring Break. Craig knew instinctively that something had shifted ever so slightly since that car ride. Stan turned to talk to him more often during down time in Trig. The one other class they shared – History – saw similar changes. Their teacher had a policy of open seating and instead of sitting near Cartman like he had the whole year so far, Stan migrated towards him. The first time Stan did this everyone stared open mouthed and Cartman nearly shat himself. Craig didn't know what to make of it.

Stan always talked to him in a low voice that was somewhere between a whisper and regular speaking. Craig found himself offering more than monosyllabic responses and leaning towards Stan as if his ears alone were allowed to catch his words. It was all entirely unconscious at the time and the only reason Craig knew he was doing it was because of the stares. He thought at first that maybe his head was on fire but when Clyde, Token, and Kevin would take sudden steps apart from each other as they approached him or Tweek would squeal and rush off in the opposite direction he realized it might be a problem.

Not his problem, of course. Until the day Kyle approached him during lunch.

"Craig, can I talk to you?"

Clyde, Token, and Kevin made faces at each other that Craig decided were best to ignore.

"It's about Stan."

This made everyone snap to attention within a five foot radius.

He really didn't want to get mixed up in all of this but that also included being stared down and gossiped about in the lunchroom. He wanted everything to go back to its usually boring state. Craig sighed and collected his half eaten lunch. "Sure," he stood and followed Kyle out of the cafeteria pausing just long enough to throw his trash out. Craig followed Kyle single file towards the courtyard that sat right outside the music rooms. Once outside and away from possible eavesdroppers Craig found himself face to face with a mask of fury.

"What the fuck is going on? Stan is _my_ friend but he's been hanging around you all the goddamn time now," Kyle huffed and put his hands on his hips. "He won't tell me what's up. Since that party at North Park he's been acting all… funny."

Craig tactfully said nothing.

"He's acting more like _you_. He doesn't say anything. Like right now," Kyle marched right up and glared at Craig as best he could with his shorter height. "I'm asking you questions and you're not answering."

Craig took a deep breath. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Stan. Stanley Marsh. You took him home from that party and since then he's been withdrawn, a homebody, and _passing Chemistry_."

"So Marsh is becoming a bookworm. What do you want me to do about it?"

Kyle rolled his eyes and groaned in frustration as he rocked back on his heels. He began pacing back and forth in front of Craig.

"I don't know. His mom keeps talking to my mom who keeps talking to me about it. I don't know what's gotten into Stan. I don't know why he did what he did with Wendy. I don't," Craig was surprised as Kyle's voice broke, sounding on the verge of tears, "I don't know what's wrong with my best friend."

Craig slowly exhaled and glanced around while Kyle regained his composure.

"Look," Craig started carefully. He hadn't dealt with another guy crying since Clyde's dog died a few years ago. "Do you want me to talk to him?"

Kyle turned around red eyed and studied Craig's face. "You'd do that?"

_Do I have a choice?_ "Sure," he looked around bored with the conversation and uncomfortable with its topic. "The sooner people get over this shit the better."

This made Kyle angry again. "What shit?"

"The whole Marsh isn't dating drama. What does it matter?"

Kyle opened his mouth to say something back but paused and closed it again. He genuinely looked confused.

"No answer," Craig felt a little smug. "When is everyone going to understand that there is more to life than this?"

"Than what?"

"High school," Craig gestured to the building before entering through the door they exited. Whatever remark Kyle had Craig didn't want to hear it and didn't care. He headed off in search of Stan to get this over with.

It wasn't until after school that he finally cornered Stan at his locker. He spotted his own friends approaching but Kyle intervened shooting Kenny and Cartman looks and the groups simply stood and watched. Craig sighed and went up to Stan. Why did it feel like he had a constant audience these days?

"Hey," he leaned against the locker next to Stan's.

"Craig," Stan offered the briefest of smiles before zipping up his backpack. "This is rare."

"Tell me about it," Craig grumbled to himself. "I'm thinking of kicking it at the arcade in the mall. Want to join?"

Stan gave him a suspicious look. "You're going to hang out at the mall? Willingly?"

"They updated some of their games last week. I'll spot you a few rounds on that gay ass Fruit Ninja game."

Stan nodded thoughtfully then shrugged his shoulders. "Sure."

Craig nodded and pulled out his car keys. "Let's go then."

"Um," Stan glanced behind himself at their group of friends. All of them except for Kyle were shooting them confused stares. "I think I was supposed to do something with Kyle and them."

"It's fine. Come on," Craig grabbed the front of Stan's jacket and pulled him behind him a few feet before releasing him. Stan hurried up to walk next to him as they headed towards his car. They both shoved their bags in the backseat before climbing in the front. Within five minutes they were heading off to their destination.

Craig wondered idly if he should have insisted on getting something to eat since he had such a small lunch thanks to this venture. Stan suddenly laughed softly to himself.

Craig didn't even bother to look over. He just wanted to hurry up and get this over with. "What?"

"It's the same CD."

Craig felt his eyebrows furrow slightly.

"From the last time."

Apparently this had some significance to Stan but it was lost on Craig. "Huh," was all he managed. It didn't take long to get to the mall and find a parking spot. Craig pulled up in front of the closest entrance to the arcade and the two climbed out. Craig pointed at the food court and after Stan nodded in agreement they headed towards the Chick-fil-A and ordered a few sandwiches, two Cokes, and waffle fries. They managed to find the one table that didn't already have a mess on it and dug into their after school meal.

"Craig, I'm not stupid," Stan broke the silence finally as they finished up their fries. "What are we really doing here?"

"Broflovski talked to me today."

Stan fell silent again and chewed on a fry thoughtfully. Craig sipped slowly from his Coke and watched Stan's still form.

"And?"

"Apparently he thinks you're becoming me."

Stan turned his head away and laughed. "Really?"

Craig watched as Stan shook his head and idly poked at his fry container.

"Not to sound like an egotist or anything..."

Stan looked at him.

"You've been following me."

"Is that bad?"

Craig studied him for a moment. Stan Marsh, Mr. Football Jock, was looking less like an intimidating athlete and more like a scared woodland critter. He found he honestly didn't have an opinion on whether it was good or bad. He realized that he hadn't felt any of the resentment towards Stan that practically embodied their relationship back in middle school. When did _that_ happen?

"Depends on why you're doing it."

Stan looked away again and shrugged. "Too much pressure, I guess."

"About the Wendy thing?"

Stan sighed loudly. "Why does everyone call it that? There was no _thing_ with Wendy. It wasn't even specifically about her. She just happened to bare the brunt of it is all."

"I see," Craig said quietly. They both remained silent and Craig wondered after listening to the background noise of the mall for a few minutes whether he was wasting his time or not. What the fuck was he doing here anyway? Playing therapist for Stan Marsh had been the farthest fucking thing from his mind that morning. He could admit to himself that the question of why Stan was paying him so much more attention lately popped up a few times. He never sat down to seriously analyze it. He figured in the long run it really didn't matter.

Stan sighed, breaking the silence around them. "I saw her walking towards me that day and realized that there was absolutely no connection between us. Normally, guys date chicks to screw with them or impress them and all that shit. Somewhere down the line I realized I never even made an attempt to do anything more than making out. I quit being interested in impressing them. No one gets it."

Craig watched as Stan lowered his head and sipped his drink. Stan suddenly struck him as less like the saddest person in the world and more like the most frustrated. He realized that he understood what Stan was trying to say perfectly.

"You can't exactly impress someone who knows once you're done with girl A that they're girl B."

Stan looked up at Craig and he felt a little jarred at the expression on Stan's face. It screamed of relief. "_Exactly_. I didn't even have to put in any effort. They just knew and would come over. Hell, not even a whole class period would go by between them. How could they stand it? Didn't it make them feel… I don't know…"

"Used?" Craig offered the smallest of smiles to Stan. "I don't think they know any better by this point."

"I'm probably the lamest sixteen year old in the world to say this, but… that's _so_ not what I want."

Craig nodded. It didn't seem entirely lame to him, though.

"I don't even know what I want, which is the reason why I told them all to stay away. Hell, I'm shocked they've listened this long."

"Maybe they don't like the change."

"Change?" Stan looked at him questioningly.

Craig dipped his head a little. "You're just kind of rolling with it, which isn't new… but you're doing it in a different way. They keep seeing it as if you're tagging along with the crowd but being incredibly reluctant to do so."

"Like you," Stan supplied causing Craig to start a little. Craig felt his eyes narrow slightly. Everyone just assumed he was playing the role of Ice King or something but Stan had him pegged correctly. It felt weird to admit that. They stared at each other, sitting in silence before Craig spoke up.

"You and I aren't exactly best buddies or anything. Though I bet if you explain it to Kyle he'll understand."

"Thanks," Stan looked almost shyly at his feet. Craig sighed and raised his hands.

"Look, don't thank me. I get where you're coming from but I'm not the one who can help you out."

Stan nodded and offered a ghost of his usual smile. "Great pep talk."

Craig grunted as they collected their trash and headed towards the arcade. "Glad we got this shit over with. I'm not your fucking coach and I'm nobody's goddamn crutch, got it?"

"Yes sir," Stan replied.

They spent about $40 at the arcade over the span of three hours. Craig knew the rest of the student population was fascinated by that Fruit Ninja game even though he never saw the appeal. When he played the first round again Stan, however, he refused to let himself be beat. They were both incredibly competitive and alternated wins and losses between them. Craig frowned in frustration until Stan happily suggested they move on to another game. They played a few rounds of Tekken, Mortal Kombat, and an older Street Fighter. They couldn't leave without playing at least a few rounds of a basketball simulation and three on a racing game. They were about to start on some first person shooters when Stan's mom texted him to come on home.

Stan grumbled on their way back to Craig's car but stayed quiet on the drive home. When Craig pulled up outside of the Marsh's house Stan looked at him seriously and swore revenge for the racing games Craig won. Craig rolled his eyes once the car door shut behind him. He headed towards his own house pointedly ignoring the upward tugging of his lips.

* * *

><p>Stan wasn't sure how much of his conversation with Craig Tucker to take to heart. He could admit to himself how disappointing it was that his super best friend had to enlist the help of someone else just to talk to him. Granted, Stan had felt infinitely better after talking to Craig. Craig didn't judge him, didn't expect anything from him, and most importantly – Craig asked him why.<p>

Stan made more of an effort to act like his old self for the remaining weeks of Junior year. He hung out during classes, lunch, and after school with his core group of friends. Some times he caught Kyle studying him, scrutinizing him to see if this was all for show. Stan would nod and look at his hands or fidget. He felt like an idiot.

That was why he was not surprised to find Kyle standing by his locker, glowering during their last week before summer break. Stan mentally groaned and walked up, spinning the lock.

"Hey," he ventured first hoping that if he took some sort of initiative Kyle might back off.

"Not a goddamn thing's changed, Stan," Kyle hissed at him.

Stan tugged at his backpack in frustration. "I'd suck as an actor."

"Since you were emulating Craig Tucker so much I figured he'd be the best one to help you gain some perspective." Kyle sounded more annoyed as he brought up Craig's name than anything else. Stan threw down his books on the floor bringing hallway traffic to a stand still.

"Perspective? On what? What the fuck did I do wrong?"

Kyle looked around embarrassed. "Whatever, Stan, just grab your things and we'll talk at home."

"Enough," Stan waved a hand between them. "I'm sick of talking and having you completely miss the point of all this. Why does it even matter what I'm doing? What is it that I'm doing you think is so bad?"

"Trying to stay away from your friends isn't healthy, Stan."

"When am I away from you? We've been cramming for finals and playing video games all weekend."

"That's," he nervously looked around, "that's not what I mean. What about Wendy?"

"Christ," Stan hissed and kicked his locker door. "Girls, girls, girls… I'm sick of that. I'm sick of the girls. _Newsflash_, girls aren't the most important thing out there."

He regretted practically shouting it into the hallway before he was even done saying it. There seemed to be a long chain of gasps and murmurs that echoed down the hall. He exhaled, grasping desperately to keep his cool. Kyle shook his head, looking like a volcano about to explode.

"Who are you? You're a completely different person. Can I get my super best friend back?"

Stan clenched his fists and closed his eyes, taking another calming breath. Once he had calmed down just enough, he swiftly opened his locker and collected his things before closing the door and brushing past the crowd.

"Stan," he heard Kyle call out.

"Just," he mumbled half to himself, "just fuck off, Kyle."

The rest of the week went by in a blur of scantron sheets, whispers behind cupped hands, and conspicuous parting of groups as Stan walked from class to class. During lunch he hid out, reviewing his notes for finals, and munched on whatever he managed to brown bag that morning. Kyle had made several attempts to talk to him but Stan buckled down, pointedly looking away, and pushed the looks of rage and disappointment from his mind. Finally, the final bell on the last day of school rang. Stan made sure to take his bag from class to class with him so he could just take off for the bus he had spent the past month riding home.

The bus ride was just long enough for Stan to do some serious thinking. Everyone else who rode the bus was thankfully giving him space and Stan didn't intend to waste it. He thought about the past few months. He had made a decision to improve his life, right? Then why did he feel so miserable? It was because his friends weren't getting how miserable he felt before. Stan shook his head. He must be missing something else.

When the bus got to his stop, he exited and slowly meandered up the walk way and opened the door. Once inside the confines of his bedroom he dropped his backpack and threw himself onto his bed. He stayed sprawled on his belly, burrowing his face in his pillow before flipping himself onto his back and stared at the ceiling.

He didn't know how to get Kyle to understand and maybe that was the problem. He was so concerned about whether Kyle understood that he really ought to emulate Craig Tucker and just let it go. What does it matter if he gets it? If Kyle was a true friend, he'd forgive Stan for whatever it was that bothered him. He still had a good time hanging out with his friends. Spending a whole 36 hours with Kyle playing games and, yes, studying had been a lot of fun for Stan. The only times it got awkward was when Kyle mentioned some party the following week or that one of the girls in their school wanted to go to said party with Stan.

Stan blinked. Since when did going to a party seem like a really lame idea? He thought about the weekend again and laughed to himself. He was perfectly fine being around Kyle. He was okay with cracking jokes with Kenny during lunch. Even Cartman was okay in English or History once in a while. And yes, Craig Tucker was pretty cool whether they talked or not. Stan slowly sat up and reached for his cell phone. His fingers automatically flew over the buttons and dialed Kyle's number.

"Stan," Kyle breathed a sigh of relief.

"Dude," Stan cleared his throat lamely.

"I know."

"Yeah."

"Thanks."

"Hey, are you still going to whatever party is going on this weekend?"

Kyle was silent for a moment. "You mean the one at Token's? Yeah. You up for it?"

Stan smiled to himself. "Yeah, I think I am."

"Cool," Kyle laughed. "It's tonight so I'll pick you up?"

"All right," Stan grinned and disconnected the call.

Stan was impressed with himself when they finally got to the party that he didn't feel the immediate need to leave. He stuck near Kyle as they made their first rounds among the party go-ers on their way to the kitchen. Token had gone all out procuring alcohol. Stan wasn't fully interested in it but decided to go for a can of beer anyway. Kyle smiled at him and did the same.

The party was tame with not a lot going on. Everyone was either dancing in the living room or just milling around in the various hallways talking. Token's house was big enough for the party to include just about the entire student population of Park County High. Stan and Kyle both exchanged amused looks when they saw that even the Goth kids had shown up.

While Stan had to admit that he did feel a little better he knew that things weren't entirely back to normal. Kyle did most of the mingling while Stan just sipped his beer and looked around. It didn't take too long for Stan to notice that he was being watched. Heads were still leaning in, eyes looking in his direction, mouths vomiting more foul gossip no doubt. Stan just smirked and blew them off with his eyes. At some point he had lost track of Kyle and decided to locate some space on the wall of the most occupied room in the house. Stan stared ahead unseeing, pointedly ignoring the other occupants. Maybe this had been a stupid idea.

"You look like you're holding well," a deep, monotonous voice broke through his thoughts so suddenly he almost dropped his can. "You know, for someone who publicly admitted he's gay."

Stan studied Craig's smug face in disbelief. "What are you –" Stan felt confused but then nodded in understanding "—right, the 'I hate girls' thing."

"It was pretty spectacular."

"You were watching that?"

Craig shook his head, leaning against the wall next to Stan. "Clyde gave me a play-by-play after the fact. Called it epic."

Stan swallowed down the lump of disappointment that crept into his throat for some reason. "Right, epic."

Stan saw from the corner of his eye that Craig was about to say something when Kyle finally emerged from the hallway. He took one look at Craig and shook his head angrily.

"Oh no, no, _no_," he stood in front of Craig with a finger raised. Craig simply raised an eyebrow at the display probably thinking the same thing Stan was. _This is totally Sheila Broflovski's child._ "You are not talking to him tonight. Not after this week."

Stan laughed in disbelief. Craig simply smirked and looked casually dismissive against the wall next to him. "It's a free country, Broflovski. Besides, this is my friend Token's house."

"That's fine but do me a favor and stay away from Stan, okay? Your presence isn't exactly helpful at the moment."

Stan's eyebrows furrowed. "What do you mean? We just ran into each other."

Kyle waved a dismissive hand in Stan's direction without breaking eye contact with Craig. "I'll handle this Stan. The last thing you need is him hanging around you at the first party after saying what you did this week."

Stan laughed in annoyance at this. "What does that have to do with anything? Listen, it was kind of a dick move to send Craig Tucker to talk to me without hearing me out yourself. _Really_ listening to what I had to say. What does it matter if he says hi to me at some party?"

Craig glanced briefly at Stan and he could have sworn he saw genuine discomfort in his eyes. Stan looked around, noticing they were the focal point of the room. He sighed wondering when everyone else would get a life and leave him out of theirs.

"He's right, Broflovski," Craig spoke. "What's it matter if we ran into each other?"

"It's just damaging to reputation, okay?"

"His or yours?"

Kyle growled and suddenly a pair of orange colored arms was around him. Stan blinked at Kenny's grinning face hovering over Kyle's left shoulder.

"Ladies, ladies," he winked at Stan, "this is a party. We're finally off for three months before senior year so let's just chill and enjoy, okay?"

"Kenny, I got it." Kyle glared at Craig's emotionless face.

"You're talking about the Bradley thing," Craig said.

"Come on, Tucker," Kenny actually whined. "Let's just have a good time."

"Yeah, the Bradley thing," Kyle repeated sarcastically.

Stan cocked his head to the side. "What Bradley thing?"

Kyle looked directly at Stan. "Don't you remember? He and Bradley got suspended from school freshman year for sneaking around in the boiler room."

Craig laughed and stood up from the wall. "Spare me your ABC Family drama, Broflovski. You don't know anything about that." Stan watched as he made his way out of the room.

"Enough to know his family was so ashamed they moved away the next day," Kyle crossed his arms and smirked at Craig's back.

Craig stopped and turned around again to face Kyle. "Like I said. You don't know anything about that."

Stan felt confused. Normally Craig would have kept walking. Why was he letting Kyle goad him? In fact, Craig was assuming the stance he used to when one of the eighth graders would try to pick on Clyde when they were in seventh. Craig had broken the record for most nose bleeds caused in a six week grading period.

"Kyle," he put a hand on Kyle's shoulder. "Just let it go. Can't I be friends with Craig Tucker?"

Kyle either didn't hear him or ignored him. "You're not as inconspicuous as you think, Craig Tucker. Its amazing your little group of friends still hangs around you since you have your own emo groupies. Most of which, ah, are male."

Stan pulled at Kyle's shoulder forcing him to face him. "Kyle, what the fuck? Since when did you become so intolerant?"

"Since my super best friend all but said he's gay in front of the entire female student population. Then to have this guy with his pathetic Goth boyfriends come around and—"

Stan felt his jaw drop as he saw a blur of blue tackle Kyle to the ground hard. The rest of the room erupted into shouts while Kyle and Craig wrestled on the floor. Kyle got in a good punch to Craig's eye but Craig retaliated with three quick jabs to the gut. Kenny shouted at Stan to help restrain and separate them while Clyde and Kevin finally showed up to help. Clyde boldly stepped between the two giving Stan the chance to lock his arm around Craig's middle and the three slowly backed away. Kenny and Kevin were struggling with Kyle and Kenny nearly got kicked in the head before they were able to restrain him properly.

"_Stan_," Kyle breathed, "what the _fuck_?"

Stan shook his head at Kyle and looked at Clyde. "I'll take him outside."

"Craig or Kyle?" Clyde asked him, clearly amused over the options.

"Craig," Stan glared at Kyle once more before pulling Craig with him out of the room. Once they were in the Hallway of Stares Craig wriggled free and breathing hard pushed his way through the crowd with Stan hot on his heels. Within minutes they were outside in the chilly air. Craig said nothing as Stan pulled at his arm to stop him from marching to his car. He took Craig's chin in one hand and turned his head towards the Black's porch light to get a better look at his eye.

"Ouch," Stan winced. "That's going to bruise really badly."

If it weren't for the chill, Stan wouldn't have known how shaken Craig was but puffs of warm air turned to smoke before his eyes. Stan gritted his teeth as he studied Craig's eye.

"Do you want to talk about that?"

Craig didn't respond but seemed to be calming down. Stan was about to say something else when he heard the front door open behind them. He let go of Craig's chin and the two turned to see the group of Goth kids standing there looking like they were gathered for a funeral. Stan looked between Craig and them, noticing how some were fidgeting. A few of the younger ones had an expression of awe crossed with appreciation.

"What," Craig said evenly. Stan was amazed at how unfazed he was with his quickly blackening eye. He thought Kyle was stubborn but Craig might have him running for his money.

"We heard all that," one of the kids Stan recognized from his art class. "We just wanted to say thanks."

Craig simply looked at them and spun around on the porch, shoving his hands into his pockets. He disappeared into the dark leaving Stan bewildered with the Goth kids. He felt the need to say something in Craig's defense and turned towards them not knowing exactly what he'd say when Craig's voice broke through the night.

"Marsh, let's go."

Stan closed his mouth and stared at them for a moment before following after him. The car ride to Stan's house was silent. When Craig pulled up to the curb outside his house Stan slowly unfastened his seat belt and put his hand on the door.

"Thanks for the ride," he mumbled. He felt like he was waking up from some sort of fog and even though he was confused about a lot of things he knew he didn't want to exit Craig's car. He turned to look at Craig, who was staring unseeingly out the windshield.

"Um," Stan sighed, "you should put some ice on that. Twenty minutes each hour."

Craig looked at him and tightened his grip on the steering wheel. He looked like he wanted to say something so Stan gave him an encouraging smile. Craig blinked and looked back out the window.

"I didn't fag out with Bradley."

Stan felt surprise as the defensive tone Craig's voice took. "It doesn't matter to me if you fag out or not, Craig."

"He was with one of the Goth kids," Craig pushed on without acknowledging Stan's comment. "I wanted to try my hand at film developing so the dark room was downstairs in the boiler room. The janitor heard some noises behind the door and told the Principal. He knew I was the only student with a key and later that day they caught Bradley sneaking into the room. They automatically assumed it was me in there with him and they suspended us both for two weeks."

Stan stayed silent and watched as Craig's grip tightened again. He smiled to himself and opened the door.

"Thanks for sharing your story, Craig."

Craig grimaced. "No more gratitude, please. I'm maxed out."

Stan laughed softly. "I don't think I've ever seen the Goth kids do something like that." He nodded thoughtfully. "You defended one of their own. I can respect that."

"Not just one," Craig half whispered to himself. Stan felt his ears burn up but before he could analyze it he stepped out of the car and closed the door behind him. He watched as Craig drove off down the street then entered his house. When he finally got upstairs to his room he kicked off his shoes and sprawled on his bed gazing at the ceiling. The day hadn't gone like he had expected but for some reason he felt pretty good for the first time in a while.

He wished Kyle hadn't been such a jerk and was almost positive they were fighting again. He sighed and flipped open his phone to see no missed calls or messages. _Good_, he thought and closed it again. Stan thought about the fight between Kyle and Craig. For a moment, just the smallest moment before Kyle opened his mouth to bitch, Stan had been disappointed that his friend showed up. He thought about Craig's black eye and how it already made his eyes stick out more. The Blacks' light was brighter than the Marshes so he was able to clearly see them for the first time. They were a pale blue with rings of gray.

Stan rolled over on his side and as he drifted off to sleep the single word he had thought way back in March in Craig's car crept up again as he thought about those eyes.

_Attractive_.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Wow, umm… I really have to say thanks to the attention the first chapter received. Thank you for the reviews and alerts, etc.

I should probably point out that this fic is part of a –verse I'm calling the Listzomania-verse since the title of this fic and the other one are lyrics in the song Listzomania by Phoenix. The other fic is just a collection of one-shots between certain scenes and chapters and I'm pretty sure the first will be up soon since we're making a bit of progress. I'll probably explain it on that fic but it isn't necessary to read them to understand this story but it'd help to read this story to understand those one-shots, obviously.


	3. Minimum Wage

For Gentlemen Only

Chapter Three: Minimum Wage

Summer is here but there's no time to stop working…

* * *

><p>"Thank you, enjoy the show," Craig sighed as he tore another pair of tickets. There was a momentary lapse of customers entering the theatre and he took the opportunity to pop his neck. He had worked a double that day and was looking forward to the moment he would get to go home and into bed. He pushed some of his hair out of his eyes and idly thought it was getting a little too long. Craig was about to start reaching for the walkie talkie designated for ushers to ask for a break when he saw the Marshes approaching.<p>

_Great_, he thought and tapped his podium in annoyance when Mr. and Mrs. Marsh smiled at him in recognition.

"Craig Tucker! I didn't know you got yourself a job," Mr. Marsh smiled at him.

"Car needs gas," Craig shrugged.

"Stan should get a job, he's been moping around the house since school let out," Mrs. Marsh handed over their tickets.

Craig gave them the briefest of smiles and tore their tickets. Three of them. He looked up. Heading towards his parents with his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans was Stan.

"Hey," he felt himself saying before he realized.

"Hey, Craig," Stan looked him up and down and smiled. "Nice uniform."

Craig blinked, feeling oddly self-conscious.

"That, Stanley Marsh," his father chided, "is a sign of responsibility."

"Right, Dad," Stan rolled his eyes.

"Tucker," Craig's manager came by and smiled at the Marshes. "Ready for your break?"

Craig nodded and was about to excuse himself when Mrs. Marsh laughed and pointed to Stan. "Hey, if you don't mind, why don't you talk to Stan about working here? We're at least half an hour early for the show anyway."

"Oh, _God_, Mom," Stan groaned. "Craig doesn't want to waste his break talking about work. That's the point of a break."

"Right," Mrs. Marsh laughed uncomfortably.

"It's no problem," Craig nodded and looked at Stan. "Come on; buy me something at the taco place across the street. We'll call it even."

Stan looked like he was about to protest, albeit weakly, when Mr. Marsh pulled out his wallet and slapped a twenty dollar bill into his son's palm. "Have fun."

Stan snorted and gave Craig an apologetic smile. Craig gestured for him to follow as he headed to the employee room to mark his card for break.

"Sorry about them," Stan sighed as they stood in line to place their order at the restaurant. "They've gotten annoying lately."

Craig shrugged. "No big deal." He shifted from one foot to the other. _What the fuck, why am I fidgeting like a little girl?_ "Any big plans this summer?"

Stan seemed to deflate. "I _was_ going on a camping trip with Kyle, Kenny and Cartman, but…"

Craig waited patiently.

"That was last week."

"Cancelled?"

"Went without," Stan looked at his feet.

"I see," Craig mumbled. They got to the front of the line and placed their order, took their number and found a booth to sit at. Craig marveled at the place. It was never busy but always seemed to take its sweet time with service.

"How about you? Anything planned other than work?"

Craig shook his head. "Not really interested."

Stan nodded and looked out the window. Craig leaned back in his seat and studied him. There were dark circles under his eyes, most likely signs that he had gone nocturnal since the party a few weeks ago. Stan actually looked depressed to him, which normally wouldn't have bothered him but…

"Listen," he broke the silence, "I don't think the theatre is hiring but this place is."

Stan tore his gaze from the window and directed it at Craig. "Really?"

Craig nodded once. "Besides, anyone voluntarily going to see this Jennifer Garner flick has terrible taste in film. You wouldn't last a day at the theatre."

This made Stan laugh causing Craig to smirk a little. _Better_, he thought and blinked it away.

"Well, rest assured that this is not voluntary," Stan sighed. "I mean, the movie choice. I don't mind being here. Right now." He finished lamely and looked at the table.

Craig stayed still as one of the workers brought over their order and took their cue number away. Craig suddenly felt a very foreign emotion – awkward. "Thanks for the meal."

"Thank my dad," Stan perked up and reached for a taco. "Your eye looks good."

Craig nodded and started on his dinner. "Healed quickly."

"This is the part where I intercede on Kyle's behalf and apologize for him," Stan smiled at him. "But I really don't feel like it."

Craig picked at his taco shell and studied its contents. For some reason the mention of Broflovski bothered him. "So don't."

Stan nodded and the two continued eating in silence. Craig stole several glances across the table during their short meal. There was less than three feet separating the two of them but it seemed like an awfully big gap all of a sudden. He didn't even know why he wanted to bridge it in the first place but at the moment it looked disappointingly impossible. Maybe he didn't want to be friends with Stan Marsh, exactly, but he couldn't deny that the person across from him was someone very easy for him to hang around.

Stan gathered up his trash and checked his cell phone. "We've been gone about twenty. How long is your break?"

Craig piled his trash with Stan's and got up from their booth. "No rush." They emptied their trays pausing only for a moment so Stan could collect a job application before heading back across the street to the movie theatre. They remained silent the entire time until Stan made to head to his auditorium.

"See ya, Craig," Stan smiled. "And thanks."

Craig nodded in return then went back to the employee room to mark his card back from break and returned to his station. One of his co-workers, a seasonal who went to school in Denver looked at him curiously amused.

"What," he said flatly.

"You look like you're in a good mood," she teased him. Before he could retort Stan came back around and gave him a little wave.

"Mom wants popcorn," he smiled. Craig nodded and crossed his arms, watching Stan head to the concession stand.

"Oh-ho," his co-worker laughed. "He's cute, huh?"

Craig reflexively opened his mouth to respond in an affirmative. _Whoa_, he thought as his eyes flew wide open and snapped his mouth closed again.

"Yeah, I totally saw that," she grinned and patted his shoulder before sauntering off.

Craig nodded to Stan again as he passed with a bucket of popcorn and wondered if he was making some huge, horrible mistake.

"I'm not doing anything, though," he mumbled to himself as he returned to work.

* * *

><p>"Hey Stan," his mom called to him from the kitchen. "Can you come in here for a second? Your father and I need to speak with you."<p>

Stan rolled his eyes and hit the power button on the remote control to shut off the television. He grunted as he got up from the couch and slowly made his way to the kitchen.

"What's up?"

"Have a seat," Randy smiled, moving aside scattered pages from the day's newspaper. "We probably should have talked about this a while ago but better late than never."

Stan felt his shoulders stiffen and slowly sat down. He feared the worst. He knew all of his friends' – well, former friends – parents all got together with his own. They couldn't help but talk and maybe they wanted to discuss whatever this issue was between himself and Kyle.

"Well, Stan, your father and I have been talking. We've started to realize that you're growing up," Sharon smiled at him. "You're becoming a young man."

"Oh no," Stan felt like he wanted to vomit. "No sex talks, please."

Both of his parents looked at him as if he had just grown three heads.

"No," Randy laughed and removed his glasses. "We're talking about you starting senior year, you know, your last year of high school next month."

Stan slumped back in his chair and rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands. "Oh thank God. That would have been the worst."

Sharon gave him a look, placing one hand on her hip. "Stanley Marsh. Are you sexually active?"

"_No, Jesus Christ_!"

Sharon nodded but looked like she didn't really believe him.

"Honest!"

"Right," Randy shot her a look. "The point is that it's probably a good time to start thinking about what you want to do afterwards."

"Afterwards?"

"After high school, Stanley," Sharon smiled. "Do you want to go to college? Do you want to enlist? Or do you want to make tacos for a living?"

Stan took a deep breath and blinked. "I… I want to keep going to school."

"Great," Randy smiled. "You want to go for football? Or you could study something in particular. You've always done well in English."

Stan drummed his fingers on the table and looked from side to side. "Er, I don't know."

"Well, we need to start discussing this. After all, financial aid comes around only a few times a year. Plus there are scholarship deadlines to think about. Once you pick what you want to study we need to decide where…"

"Oh wow," Stan murmured to himself. He had to admit the idea that this time next year he'd be done with high school and stocking up on instant noodles was a little scary.

Randy slapped him on the back. "Look, if we leave you alone with this you'll miss some good opportunities so why don't we try pacing ourselves and set short term goals?"

Stan blinked up at his father. "Like what?"

"Let's say, before the new school year starts that you'll have picked a few career choices."

"If you know what you want to do it'll be easier for us to think about what you should major in," Sharon nodded encouragingly.

"A career," Stan repeated.

His parents exchanged glances.

"Just use this time to give it some thought."

"We'll be here if you have any questions."

"Right," Stan nodded. He got up from the table and made his way upstairs to his room.

A career. His future. He ran a hand through his hair and looked out the window.

"This is not what I wanted to be blindsided with on a Wednesday."

He spent the next few days grumbling around the house whenever he wasn't working his shifts at the taco place. He couldn't stand being in the same room with his parents. They would smile at him and try too hard to be supportive. That's a really hard thing to do when you don't know what you're supporting.

Stan was leaning on the front counter wallowing in self-pity and doubt when a light tap on the particle board claimed his attention. He looked up to see Craig standing there with a small, amused smirk on his face. Stan rested his chin in his hands and looked at him. He sometimes wished he worked at the theatre with Craig. Not only did he feel zero pressure around him but the uniform was so much better. Craig had on a white button down shirt tucked into black khakis. To top it all off he had on a nice fitted burgundy vest with a white plastic name tag pinned in at an angle.

Stan frowned and nodded at the tag. "It's crooked again."

"My own form of artistic expression," Craig's eyes gleamed with amusement. "How did a restaurant that serves Mexican food obtain mustard?"

Stan rolled his eyes. These jabs were part of their repertoire now. "Ha, ha, stupid yellow polo versus wannabe bus boy attire. You're original, Craig."

Craig frowned at his uniform, placing his hands across his torso and Stan did his best to not stare at his strong looking hands. When he rested them just so across his stomach Stan was torn between gratitude for the theatre manager for picking such a uniform and dismay that he'd never be able to pull it off like Craig could.

"You're moping again," Craig sighed and leaned against the counter directly across from Stan. He tried to ignore the closeness of their hands. When the fuck did he get so self-conscious?

"I've just been thinking about the future."

Craig nodded his head. "Life after high school."

"Right, my parents cornered me with the topic a few days ago and I'm having a hard time dealing with it."

"Why?" Craig looked at him but didn't appear concerned. Stan was fast learning that Craig didn't show much emotion behind what he was thinking. Instead, if he was interested in what you had to say he would give you words back. If he wasn't, he'd stay silent. When Craig did react, it was because he couldn't give you words or chose to hold on to them. Stan wondered what those withheld words were when their conversations stilted on numerous occasions.

"They keep giving me pep talks and those smiles. You know," Stan grimaced, "the 'we're all behind you' kind."

Craig ran a hand through his hair and laughed. Stan observed the contrast between his black hair and near deathly pale fingers.

"I know the kind."

Stan shook his head to keep himself focused. "Anyway, they've set a deadline and I don't know if I'll make it."

"What kind of deadline?"

"To decide on a career before school starts up. That way we can decide on a major and a school and hunt for scholarships, and so on and so on."

Craig nodded. Stan took a deep breath and smiled to himself. Craig really understood a lot of what Stan was going through and had for a while. It wasn't the same as hanging around Kyle, but it wasn't bad at all. In fact, Stan was wondering if he was beginning to prefer Craig's company over Kyle's even though he did miss him. They still hadn't talked since Token's party at the beginning of the summer but Stan found that each day he thought about it less and less. Kyle would come around in his own time.

"Hey," one of Stan's co-workers slapped a stack of damp plastic trays next to him and Craig. "You lover boys done here? We need to get some work done."

Stan spun around and made an indignant sort of noise, recognizing the rush of adrenaline that comes when he had to defend his masculinity. Craig's chuckle behind him made him immediately snap out of it though.

"I'm off to work," he smiled at Stan. "Listen, maybe thinking about what you like to do best is a good place to start. If you don't like what you do then how can you be any good at it or do it for your entire life?"

Stan furrowed his brows as he thought about that and nodded slowly. "Do you know what you want to do?"

Craig scratched his right ear distractedly. "Engineering."

Stan gave a low whistle. "Wow. How did you come up with that?"

Craig shrugged. "I get math and sciences pretty easily. What I want to do is double major in electrical and mechanical engineering."

"Damn, dude," Stan nodded. He was genuinely impressed. "How did you figure out what to go for or what it's called?"

Craig titled his head slightly and looked at Stan thoughtfully. "What time are you off work?"

Stan felt momentarily stunned. "Eleven thirty."

"Same. Pick you up." He watched as Craig left the restaurant, crossed the street, and got lost in the foot traffic of downtown South Park.

"What I like to do," Stan repeated to himself and began drying the stack of trays next to his register. He liked football. Anyone could see that, but he wasn't sure if he was good enough to make a career out of it. Not as a professional player anyway. He could work as a trainer or coach. He may not be in the position to lead anyone at the moment but he had in the past.

His dad had been right about English, too. Stan really liked reading and writing. It would be lame to become a teacher and hardly productive at all to try for an author. He could become a reporter but he knew he'd prefer to work at his own pace if he wrote professionally. A reporter would have to do a lot of researching, which wasn't bad. In fact, he really liked researching and collecting information. What he didn't like was trying to compile it all.

He made some hasty notes on some receipt paper and shoved them into his pocket. He'd get a better look at it again later.

When his shift was over he quickly clocked out and exited the restaurant with the rest of the evening staff. It had been a long shift but he was actually looking forward to seeing what Craig had to show him. He pretended that he hadn't been caught grinning stupidly by his co-workers and customers when the thought crept up in his mind. Nope, he was merely curious to see how the solitary Craig Tucker figured out what he wanted to do with his life.

He walked briskly towards the now familiar blue car parked in the employee section and opened the door. "Hey," he shot Craig a little too happy of a grin before climbing in.

Craig nodded, some weird looking confection sticking out from between his lips. Stan sighed and waved off the offer of taking one for himself when Craig held up the box to him. It had some weird writing on it Stan recognized without knowing what it said.

"I thought the entire town agreed to nix anything Japanese after that incident when we were kids," Stan teased.

"Can't stop internet shopping," Craig's eyes shone with amusement. Stan stared with a smile on his face as Craig rolled his tongue to chew on more of the treat.

"I seriously don't get what you think is so great about Pocky," Stan grabbed the box and stared at the label as Craig backed out his car and drove.

"You have your vices and I have mine," Craig practically sing-songed. Stan lowered the red box and looked at Craig in surprise.

"Stop the press, Craig Tucker is _glowing_," Stan grinned as Craig made a dismissive sound. He still managed to smile a little making Stan grin more. "So what's up?"

"I just got told I'll be starting in projection next weekend."

Stan nodded. "And this is cool? A promotion?"

"Of sorts," Craig shrugged a shoulder. "It kind of has to do with what I want to do in school."

"Tearing Tickets 101," Stan teased again and didn't flinch when Craig slugged him in the shoulder. He had a slight smirk on his face so Stan figured he wasn't going to get anything worse and watched as the familiar scenery passed them by. He recognized they were heading towards the Tucker's and he found himself looking forward to this trip. Even though they shared breaks often, Stan had never been over to Craig's. Once they had parked Craig's car and made their way inside Stan realized he stank of spices and floor cleaner.

"This way," Craig nodded and led Stan through the living room and upstairs to his bedroom. Stan swallowed thickly unsure of why he suddenly felt so nervous being in Craig's room. Craig flipped on the light and tossed his keys towards his night stand. Stan felt his mouth open as he looked around. The walls were covered with movie posters for what he assumed were Craig's favorite films. Stan turned to face Craig with a questioning stare.

"Craig, you like film so much but you don't want to study it?"

Craig shuffled around his room straightening up random things. "I think it'll take the fun out of it. You'd study certain techniques that other people have already done, compare art for art's sake versus commercialism, and even though you'd get to work with some fancy equipment it's probably already outdated. Then you'd have to decide between going for a master's to teach the subject or becoming a wedding video editor? It's a recreational thing not a way to earn an income."

Stan stared at him with a mixture of awe and insecurity. "Never thought of it like that…"

Craig pulled out his computer chair and flipped on his monitor. "Go ahead and sit down."

"You sure?"

Craig sighed and gave him a pointed look. "Sit."

Stan smiled sheepishly and sat down. He flinched as Craig leaned in close over his shoulder, directing his gaze to the monitor, and clicked his mouse noisily. Stan flit his eyes around nervously until Craig opened up a webpage. "Here is the University of Colorado at Denver site. I looked around at their programs and did some Internet searches and that's how I got to my decision."

Stan nodded. "I have no idea what I want to do, though."

"Just read the programs each school has listed," Craig clicked around some more until the university's catalog came up. "Take your time and remember you don't have to decide right now."

"God, I feel like a whiny pussy," Stan sighed and slump his shoulders.

"Because you are, Marsh," Craig straightened up. Stan felt that weird hum of energy again as Craig smirked at him. "At least you can admit it."

Stan nodded and looked Craig dead in the eye. He wasn't sure what, but something big just happened to him tonight. He felt like he could take on the world just feeding off of the confidence surrounding Craig. If someone like the person standing in front of him could commit to what seemed like a nearly impossible dream, then so could he. He busied himself for two hours on Craig's computer as he started figuring out the rest of his life.

The following week at dinner, Stan was unsurprised when his parents gave him curious looks while passing peas.

"So," Randy looked at Stan, "have you thought about any careers yet?"

"I have," Stan nodded. "It'll take a lot of time, money, and hard work but… I want to be a researcher."

Both of his parents put down their cutlery and looked at him with surprise. He nodded at them, feeling more confident in his decision as he said it.

"I don't know where, exactly, or what kind of researching I want to do, but I think I'd be good at it."

Sharon smiled. "You've always been good about collecting books and organizing your projects."

"But getting all that information together isn't your strong suit," Randy said gently.

Stan nodded. "I know and that's what college is for. It'll teach me how to get beyond that."

"So that's it," Sharon lifted her fork. "Researcher! You could work at a museum."

"Or assist scientists," Randy offered. "We have a few researchers up at the Institute. Maybe there is an internship program…"

"Dad," Stan sighed but didn't feel at all annoyed.

Randy nodded his head and stabbed at his peas with his fork. "I know, but even if you don't do research in the sciences it'll still be a great experience under your belt."

Stan nodded. "Yeah, I could use some of the supervisors for recommendations for grad school."

Once again the cutlery was dropped and Stan smiled sheepishly at his parents. "If I'm doing this at all, of course I'll go all the way."

"That's really great, Stan," his mom beamed at him while Randy gave him a warm smile. "We're so proud of you."

Stan gave them another smile and resumed eating dinner.

* * *

><p>Business was at a lull and Craig found himself leaning across the counter of the concession stand with his eyes focused on the restaurant across the street. It was overcast enough that he could just make out Stan wiping off tables and looking as miserable as he felt in his own part time job. It made him smile a little and he thought about the way Stan had been acting recently. Craig Tucker was no chick but he could tell that something about his presence bothered Stan lately. He had tried backing off as soon as he saw Stan becoming less responsive but when they'd part ways Stan would fumble over excuses for his reserved attitude and make plans with him. Craig felt like he was dating someone and he didn't know what to think about that.<p>

"There's Craig Tucker," a chime toned voice called from behind him. He turned around to see Wendy Testaburger and Bebe Stevens giggling to each other and looking in his direction.

"I heard a rumor that you and Stan have been best buddies since the start of summer," Bebe smiled at him. Craig narrowed his eyes and grimaced. She was wearing too much lip gloss.

He didn't even dignify that with a response.

Wendy laughed and tossed her hair. "Don't play dumb, Craig. We've seen you two hanging out at that crappy taco place you're always looking at."

Craig looked at the two. They kept glancing at each other like they were sharing some big secret. If there was a secret, Craig didn't care but he did care that they kept up this big laugh about Stan behind his back. That bugged him a lot more than he wanted to admit.

"What about it?"

"You can talk about it with us. We know all his moves," Bebe had the audacity to bat her eyelashes at him.

"Or maybe he's gotten a little rusty since he's gone all celibate on us," Wendy rolled her eyes.

"What is the point of all this?" Craig gazed disinterestedly between them.

"The point is, you had your turn and now it's time to pass him down to the next girl," Bebe winked at him.

"We'll keep your spot open in case he ever needs to _experiment_ again," Wendy shook her head and laughed.

"So you admit you rotate him around yet had the nerve to be offended when he pointed it out to you eight months ago?"

"Why are you so concerned? It isn't like you're really doing anything together," Wendy laughed again.

"Maybe he isn't interested in rotating out, as you call it, since I don't have to resort to parlor tricks to keep him," Craig gracefully slid his hands into his pockets and allowed himself to look a little smug at their reactions. "Now if you'll excuse me I have work to do."

"Right," Bebe grumbled as he turned away. "Save up money to take your little boyfriend out."

Craig spun around on his heels without stopping his walk. "At least I have enough class to take him out someplace other than a darkened laundry room at a kegger for a quick feel up."

Both girls made shocked noises and Craig felt infinitely better. He was in such a good mood for the next few hours that the theatre's regular customers made complaints about his shit eating grin.

"All right, Tucker," his manager shook his head in amusement. "Go on break."

Craig nodded and went about his usual routine before making his way towards the restaurant across the street. As soon as he opened the door he looked towards the main counter. Stan was slumped over looking miserable in his retarded yellow polo that had acquired a series of grease stains during the summer. Craig chuckled softly and strode towards the counter feeling greatly amused that Stan hadn't even notice him yet.

"What's that joke old folks say when they see you looking like that in this place?"

"Working hard or hardly working," Stan sighed and looked up at Craig smiling slightly. "I fucking hate it when they do that."

Craig smirked back. "That's the world of miserable part time jobs. You up for break yet?"

Stan nodded and retreated into the deep recesses of fast food kitchen world. When he reemerged he followed Craig back out of the restaurant and the two made their way towards a nearby sandwich shop. Craig glanced at Stan, who seemed lost in thought, and debated on the merits of his earlier teasing with the girls. With school starting up again so soon Stan was bound to find out. Craig wondered if he would get mad. If?

"What the hell," Craig laughed under his breath.

"What's up?"

"I had some visitors today," Craig scratched his ear as Stan shot him a questioning stare. "Wendy and Bebe."

Stan whistled and licked his lips. "What did they want?"

"Oddly, to get put in their place," Craig cleared his throat. It really did feel better than it ought to seeing the prissy bitches knocked down a peg or two.

Stan laughed. "How did you manage that?"

"Stan!" Craig looked ahead with Stan to see another one of their classmates coming towards them.

"Millie," Stan sounded confused. "What's up?"

Craig watched as she ran up to Stan to wrap her arms around his middle. Stan looked at him dumbly and awkwardly waved his arms around. Craig felt himself frowning thinking that Stan looked like a retarded chicken flapping its wings. He tuned out their idle conversation, feeling his fists gather up deep within his pockets. He offered weak smiles every time Millie looked at him, which thankfully wasn't often.

"Well," her voice cut in through his thoughts. Craig thought it sounded like trying to make dust out of a bar of granite using a cheese grater. "I've really missed you, Stan. I was hoping we could spend some time together. You know, like old times?" She placed a hand on his arm.

Stan looked at her hand then at Craig. "I don't know if that's such a good idea, Millie. I'm still not up for that kind of thing."

"Oh," she frowned in Craig's direction. "So it's true then."

"What's true?"

"You're into a _different_ kind of thing these days." She was outright glaring at Craig now and he sighed. Stan looked from Millie to Craig.

"I'm sorry, I'm still not getting it."

"That's too bad then," she smiled at Stan. "You know how I'm always so eager."

_Here we go again_, Craig mentally groaned. "That's pretty pathetic," he hissed and looked around.

Millie narrowed her eyes at him. "Excuse me? Who are _you_, Craig the emo vest boy, thinking you can judge me?"

"Someone with some standards."

"What standards," Millie laughed. "You never give anyone the time of day except for Stan all of a sudden."

Craig noticed Stan tense up and look around nervously. He really wished it was okay to hit girls sometimes.

"Oh ho," she raised an eyebrow. "You aren't denying it!"

"Look, we're both on break and don't have to stand here wasting time with girlish gossip."

"No one's stopping you, _Craig_," Millie rolled her eyes. "Why don't you run along like the stray dog you are while Stan and I make some plans?"

"I'd rather be a stray than a clueless bitch," he smirked as Millie gasped and Stan looked at him in surprise. "We'll be on our way," he nodded to Stan and the two resumed their walk toward the sandwich shop.

"Uh," Stan's eyes flit around as they waited in line to place their orders. "I don't know what to say."

Craig sniffed and looked away. "Nothing."

Stan nodded. "Right," Craig watched him fiddle with the hem of his work shirt.

"Wait," Stan looked at him suspiciously. "Is that what happened with the others?"

Craig looked away. "Perhaps."

Stan stayed silent and they shuffled forward in line. "Seriously?"

Craig looked at him. Stan was shaking his head, smiling.

"You were—," Stan broke off as they had to place their orders. Once they had them they headed back outside and towards their jobs. Craig busied himself with his sandwich hoping Stan would take his cue. He listened as Stan sighed and copied him.

They stopped in front of the taco place, tossing away their trash in one of the outside receptacles. Craig glanced at his watch, saw he was nearly out of time and made to head back to the theatre.

"Wait," Stan grabbed his elbow, pulling him to a stop. Craig looked down at his hand then at his face. Stan avoided eye contact with him but didn't look upset. In fact, if Craig had to pin down any one emotion he'd say Stan was… embarrassed? He felt a lump form in his throat and waited patiently for Stan to finally meet his eyes.

"Thanks for back there," Stan sighed. "They still don't get it."

Craig studied Stan's face for a moment and allowed himself a small smile. "You're above their petty teenaged problems."

"Sounds vaguely familiar, Mr. Goth Idol," Stan grinned.

"I can respect that," Craig said in a low voice and smirked back. Stan's face fell slightly and Craig felt his grip on his arm loosen. He nodded and turned back to the theatre.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** I like how I always manage to sneak my job into fics I write. Heh.

Again, thanks for all the alerts, favs, and reviews! I honestly didn't think this thing would get too much attention so I've been very surprised.


	4. The Rumor Mill

For Gentlemen Only

Chapter Four: The Rumor Mill

Stan laughs off the rumors he likes Craig but are they really rumors? Craig would be annoyed with the girls if he weren't enjoying himself so much.

* * *

><p>The first week of senior year at Park County High School was more or less brutal for Stan Marsh. Despite the awkwardness he felt around Craig, the few classes they had together were probably the easiest to deal with.<p>

On the first day of football, the coach called him into the athletic offices and had him go through what the coaching team called an "evaluation." It was more of a series of surveys about his social habits with a few transparent questions about his goals and motivations thrown in for good measure. Halfway through it Stan realized what the test was really about and felt sick to his stomach the rest of the day. He wished he had Kyle to unload his concerns to but every time they spied one another Kyle would clam up and walk the other way.

Craig would have been ideal given the kind of summer they had with a very open and easy friendship but something told him it would have made discussing the test impossible. Especially since a good four out of five questions dealt with his sexual experiences. He wasn't sure if it was entirely legal or not and as much as the thought depressed him Stan genuinely felt that he'd rather quit the sport before admitting the test even took place. He also knew that the awkwardness he felt around Craig was probably leading him down a path that would cause problems with his teammates. At least until he sorted it out.

It looked like he was going to have to think about it soon. He was surprised when Kenny sauntered up to him with his very free grin and threw an arm around his shoulders.

"I heard a rumor," Kenny sang into Stan's ear.

"Oh God, what is it this time?"

"You threw this big fit last year," Kenny held up his hands in a defensive gesture when Stan was about to speak. "So all the girls cooled their jets. And that's fine. Insane, but I get it."

"If you 'get it' then where the hell has your support been?"

"You are right," Kenny surprised him, "absolutely right, but I have been pleading your case to the judge and asking for a stay of execution."

Stan nodded and blew out a frustrated breath. "Kyle."

Kenny snapped his fingers. "Got it in one. He's really pissed you went to Craig's aid and not his."

"Kyle was at fault," Stan blinked and ignored the stares surrounding him as they wandered the halls of the school. "Craig didn't do anything wrong."

"Okay, but the fact you and Kyle haven't made peace is only fueling the rumor mill."

"What rumor? Wait," Stan pushed at Kenny's chest. "You know what, I don't care. Don't tell me." Kenny raised both his eyebrows and pursed his lips in amusement. "I'll make an effort towards reconciliation with Kyle."

"Whoa," Kenny's face fell into disbelief. "Working on your vocabulary this summer?"

Stan shrugged. Awkwardness flooded his system as he thought about how impulsively he studied over the summer. Not just to research for college but also because he quickly discovered that Craig had a much larger vocabulary base than he did. He hated to lose even though his best friend had a larger vocabulary than Craig.

"Whatevs," Kenny ruffled Stan's hair and took off down the hall at a jog.

Stan watched him go and flattened down his hair while he thought. Make up with Kyle. He really ought to; it was their last year of high school after all. His parents had been dropping hints that it would be best if he did. He just didn't know how to approach him.

"This is stupid," he mumbled to himself as he rummaged through his locker between class periods.

"I'll say," Wendy's voice echoed from behind him.

Stan rolled his eyes. "Hey Wends."

"Oh, so I'm Wends still?"

Stan shoved his Economics book into his locker and fished out his Physics. "I've always called you that whether we were together or not."

"Right," she shoved a hand in front of his face and smiled sweetly. "What do you think of the bracelet Daddy got me?"

He squint his eyes at the piece of jewelry. "Um, it's shiny?"

Wendy frowned. "Come on, Stan. Your opinion matters to me."

"And why is that, exactly?"

She sighed and put her hands on her hips. "I want a guy's honest opinion. And not one that's laced with some lame ass come on."

Stan gave her a confused look.

"Don't look so exasperated. Your secret is safe with me."

"What secret?"

"That you're dating Craig Tucker."

Stan felt like someone had just dumped a bucket of ice cold water down his back. "_What?_"

"Well," she waved a hand, "it isn't exactly _secret_ secret since everyone's talking about it, but I want to show my support." She nodded earnestly at him.

"I'm still lost here," he nervously licked his lips. "Everyone equals who, exactly, and where is the evidence for this alleged relationship?"

Wendy narrowed her eyes at him. "I don't like that. Don't talk like him."

Stan laughed in disbelief. "Answers, Wendy?"

"Right, so everyone means everyone. At least, everyone that saw first hand how you went to Craig's aid at Token's party. And as for evidence, well, Craig has pretty much admitted it himself."

Stan crossed his arms and looked to the side. He knew Wendy was misunderstanding something but the idea that Craig would say they're dating kind of made him feel… happy. He exhaled sharply and turned back to Wendy knowing curiosity was getting the better of him.

"When did Craig say this?"

"Stan," Wendy leaned against the locker next to his and looked at him with the eyes of a predator. "Why aren't you denying it first?"

"What is there to deny? He and I aren't in a relationship. Not like that, anyway." He hoped he didn't sound as disappointed as he felt.

She stared at him as if waiting for the punch line of a joke. When he didn't say anything else she bit her lip unsuccessfully hiding a smile.

"I think you _like_ him."

"_Wendy_," he groaned in frustration.

"Seriously. Is that why the coaches had you take that gay test? Not that it'll prove anything one way or the other. There isn't a test for that kind of thing let alone a multiple choice one." Wendy rolled her eyes.

Stan wanted very much to punch his locker but knew it would do nothing to help him. Instead he gave her a brief glare and headed off to his Physics class. Once again a ripple of stares followed him as he pushed through the halls. He grimaced as he approached the science lab. Physics was the only class he had with both Craig and Kyle. He meant to try to reconcile with Kyle but Wendy's accusation led his feet to the table in the back of the classroom. Clyde was seated on the black tabletop laughing at some story he was telling to a completely uninterested Craig. Stan made eye contact with him and felt his stomach squirm as Craig gave him a small smirk.

_Ridiculous_, he thought.

Clyde noticed Craig's change in expression and turned his head to see Stan. They exchanged nods as Stan stopped at the side of the table next to Craig's seat.

"I have to ask you a question," he rested both palms on the tabletop.

"Oh," Clyde laughed, "trouble in paradise, I'd better split." Stan turned his head towards him to yell at him but the brunette had already dashed off.

"Christ, what is with people today," he hissed at the space left by Clyde instead of doing what he really wanted to – follow Clyde and beat the shit out of him.

Craig jerked his chin in the direction of the vacant seat next to him. "Sit."

Stan gave him a bored look but walked around to take the seat anyway. A little too quickly, he noted. Craig waited patiently as Stan settled in and brought their chairs closer together so he could whisper to him.

"Answer me honestly," Stan hesitated trying to ignore how unbelievably good Craig smelled. "Did you tell Wendy you and I are dating?"

"Are we dating?" Craig looked flatly into his eyes.

"No," Stan responded and flinched as Craig reacted to the uncertainty in his voice.

"If you and I know it then what the fuck does it matter what they think?" Craig faced forward again.

"You mean to tell me that even the fact that your own friends are joking about it doesn't bother you?"

"Clyde is Clyde," Craig shrugged. "Outside of that I honestly don't care what they think."

Stan sighed.

"I don't know if you recall, Marsh, but this isn't the first time we've been accused of something that simply isn't true," Craig leaned his head in closer causing all sorts of signals to crisscross in Stan's brain. "You need to think about why it bothers you so badly and get over it."

Stan looked at Craig and realized he was right. Craig wasn't letting something as stupid as other people's opinions get to him. He had done a good job himself of letting that shit roll off of him so why did it bother him now? He studied Craig. He just exuded that 'don't give a fuck' mentality Stan wanted desperately to possess. His left arm rested on the table top with the right dangling by his side. He was slumped too far in his seat for it to be comfortable for his back and if you asked Stan, Craig's legs were splayed just a little too far apart. But he was confident. Confident enough to give Kyle a smug smile when he glared in their direction.

Stan relaxed in his seat and mentally checked out of the lesson. He'd borrow someone's notes later. Why was this bothering him so much? He thought about his conversations with Wendy and Kenny. Kenny hadn't flat out said it, but Stan knew what he had wanted to insinuate. Wendy, however, did flat out say it. _You like him_, she had said. Stan focused on that. It was ridiculous to hear someone else say it but would it really be so bad if he did?

He shook his head slightly. One of the main things he learned in football was that it is important to visualize your goal. Visualize yourself and your teammates executing the play. He tweaked the concept a little and visualized himself walking down the halls of the school. People passed him by or huddled against their lockers, whispering and laughing in his direction. He saw in his mind's eye Kyle leaning in an adjacent hallway, looking disappointed in him. He stopped and watched Kyle minutely shake his head, feeling a wave of dread wash over him. What was he doing? Where was he going?

Footsteps echoed in the hall and both he and Kyle turned towards their source. There was the usual group of Clyde, Token, Kevin, and Tweek heading down the hall from the opposite side. Stan looked at the person standing in the middle of their group, not paying attention to his surroundings as usual. Stan felt himself wishing Craig would look up at him, acknowledge him.

And then he did.

"Hey," the imaginary Craig nodded at him; his eyes shining dark with amusement and smirk playing on his lips. Since this was Stan's mind he could control the environment and didn't feel the nervous tension grapple his shoulders like when this actual scene played out each morning. Instead he saw himself smiling back at Craig thinking, _I like him. I like Craig Tucker._

"Is there a problem, Mr. Marsh?" Stan blinked and the mental image of the hallway vanished to be replaced with the real classroom. Somehow during his visualization he went from relaxed in his seat to standing with his chair knocked backwards on the floor. He wondered why he didn't hear it himself. His teacher and the rest of the class were staring at him as if he was participating in a Dumbest Person Alive contest and winning.

"Uh," Stan felt like his mouth was full of cotton and feet were encased in cement. The teacher crossed his arms over his chest impatiently and Stan found himself glancing at Craig. Craig was slowly twirling his pen with his lips pursed together in an amused thin line. Stan's eyes locked with Craig's and for a moment Stan felt horror just knowing that Craig would figure out what he had admitted to himself. The horror finally pushed Stan's body into action and he turned back to the teacher.

"May I be excused?"

The teacher nodded and made hesitating sounds as Stan quickly collected all of his belongings and bolted out the lab door. He managed to get halfway to his locker when he spied a men's room and threw himself inside. He lunged for the nearest stall and vomited up his breakfast until he could hardly breathe. When he was done he slid to the floor with an undignified whimper and curled up on the nasty linoleum floor. His mind was reeling with questions and disjointed images of his summer with Craig. It was too much and threatened to incite another round of barfing. He did his best to focus solely on his breathing gradually emptying his mind in the process.

He nearly leapt out of his skin as he felt a pair of hands touch his forehead.

"Damn," Kyle's voice bounced softly off the walls of the thankfully vacated bathroom, "you don't look good at all, dude."

"_Kyle_," he breathed and felt instant relief that threatened to manifest into tears. He stared at the back wall of the stall, eyes following the plumbing from the wall to the toilet, and let out a shaky breath. He didn't think he could hold the tears back for much longer and would rather have Kyle with him at the moment than anyone else.

"It's okay, dude," Kyle patted his back soothingly. "Just calm down and tell me what's up."

Stan nodded and let the rest of his freak out pass, concentrating on Kyle's hands, and breathed another shaky breath.

"I like Craig Tucker."

He squint his eyes, waiting for the barrage of insults, screaming, and accusations. Instead there was only quiet. Kyle gently pulled Stan up into a sitting position.

"I know," he put an arm around his shoulders and leaned their heads together.

Stan pulled his knees up to his chest and rested his elbows on his knees, digging his palms into his eye sockets. "God, I really do like him."

"Its fine, Stan."

"How is it fine?" He looked at Kyle, vision blurring with tears. He did not want to cry and sniffed to keep them back. "When did this happen? _Fuck_."

Kyle sighed gently and squeezed Stan closer. "A while back."

"How do you know?"

"When you went to him instead of me at that party. I've been so angry about it because I thought you were hiding something from me. We've never hidden anything from each other and even though I started it, I was hoping you'd at least pull me to the side and explain you two were together or something."

Stan shook his head slightly unable to keep his tears back and leaned in to Kyle.

"So I watched you when I could," he heard Kyle's voice break. "I saw you had a job Craig Tucker helped you get. I saw you share lunches with Craig Tucker. I saw your expression change when he walked into a room. I saw how you'd fidget when you were waiting for him after work or when you two saw movies. I hated him so much for taking away my best friend during our last summer." Stan snaked an arm around Kyle, realizing Kyle hadn't misunderstood him at all. He had to deal with the same realization Stan was, only Kyle had gotten a head start as usual.

"Then it dawned on me that you didn't know you liked him. I mean, even a couple of guys trying to keep it on the down low slip up and you two never did. Well," Kyle sighed. "I wasn't watching Craig so much as you, so I don't know what he's thinking. Then again, does anyone?"

Stan allowed himself to laugh at that. "Of all people, _Craig Tucker_…"

Kyle grimaced. "That's what I said. Kenny's figured it out, too, by the way." Stan felt his stomach tense up again but Kyle resumed his soothing pats on his shoulder. "We got the fatass away from the camping trip long enough to discuss things. Kenny was the one to suggest you didn't know."

Stan sighed and bumped his head against Kyle's.

"Stan, we both support you. You know that we don't care one way or another so long as you're happy," Kyle laughed a little. "But yeah, _Craig Tucker_."

Stan felt immensely better and wished he could brush his teeth. He wiped at his eyes and frowned. "He's really easy to be around."

Kyle gave him a gentle squeeze to show he was listening.

"I just felt all this pressure after last year. I hate stereotypes and felt everyone was pushing one on me. When I told the girls enough I thought it wouldn't be such a big deal. It took me a while to realize that I wasn't and haven't been attracted to any of them for a long time."

He felt Kyle nod. "And Craig?"

"I realized after that party that I found him attractive."

Kyle nodded again.

"Well, it was actually after the party when he gave me a ride back to town but it didn't really sink in until the other one."

Kyle groaned and Stan flinched self-consciously. "Great, now I owe Kenny ten bucks."

Stan nearly laughed at that. "What?"

"I swore up and down that it was Token's party but Kenny insisted it had started earlier. Lame," he titled his head and gave Stan an uncharacteristic lop-sided grin. Stan smiled back. "That's better. So tell me what he's like."

Stan picked at his palm. "He's really easy to be around. I don't have to force conversation with him. The girls always wanted my opinion on this and wasn't it unbelievable some other girl had said that. Craig ignores the drama bullshit and gets to the why of the issue." He felt his face heat up. "It's refreshing."

"Well, that's a relief," Kyle grinned again. "I wasn't sure if I could handle you discussing his hot bod or how you can't wait to have his mouth around your dick or something."

Stan cringed. "Aw, sick, dude."

"You _did_ say you found him attractive," Kyle teased.

Stan laughed and looked down feeling shy again. "I admit I like his eyes."

Kyle mocked a retching sound and the two laughed. "Sorry, guess you don't want to hear that again."

"Please, no," Stan cleared his throat. "In fact, we should probably never discuss this again and just go back to class. After we find some toothpaste."

Kyle made a humming noise. "I've got a better idea. Let's go see the nurse."

Kyle helped Stan get to his feet and to the sink. While Stan did his best to clean up, Kyle flushed the toilet and washed his hands. Instead of drying them, he patted water on Stan's forehead and winked. "Trust me."

Kyle led Stan towards the nurse's office and after whispering for him to look miserable, which wasn't too difficult to pull off, they went inside. Kyle explained that Stan was sick and offered to give him a ride home if his mother was okay with it. The nurse made a face and dialed the number listed in Stan's emergency contact file. She had a quick conversation with Sharon, repeatedly having to say it was Kyle Broflovski, yes ma'am, who was offering to drive Stan home. When she finally hung up she gave them a suspicious smile and released them from school.

It wasn't the same as ditching, but Stan could admit as they took off in Kyle's car that it was a whole hell of a lot more fun.

* * *

><p>"Hey Craig," Millie gave him a fake smile as she sauntered over to his regular table in the cafeteria. At least she didn't assume she had the right to sit down. "How's it going with your boyfriend?"<p>

"For someone who lost interest in him all the time you seem overly keen to keep track of him now."

"Don't be a bastard, Craig," she glared at him. "Why don't you help us all out and convince him to go back to his old routine?"

"Again with the canine references," Craig smirked at her over his can of Coke. "You truly are a clueless bitch."

Millie's mouth popped open in insult. She shook her head and looked around at the other occupants of the table for assistance. His friends tactfully kept their silence suddenly very interested in their lunches.

"Whatever, Craig." He watched as she stomped off to the girls' table. Once there, the other girls made sympathetic faces and took turns giving him glares. He winked at every one of them.

"Craig," Clyde shot him a glare. "What the _hell_? You usually let this kind of shit roll off you."

Craig clicked his tongue in annoyance. "Don't be such a buzz kill, Clyde."

Token, Kevin, and Tweek looked at him with classic expressions of surprise.

"Whoa," Token whispered.

"If you're going to snark at people," Clyde hissed, "then do it to us. Leave the girls to their own devices."

"It doesn't have anything to do with you," Craig responded calmly.

"Same to you," Clyde shot back. "They're pissed at _Stan_. You don't have anything to do with his decision to keep his balls blue."

"That's not exactly true and you know it, Clyde," Kevin finally recovered from his shock. "He and Stan are pals now, remember?"

"Yeah, I remember," Clyde looked away and tore at his sandwich. "All the 'hey, wanna come over?' 'No I have plans with Marsh.' we went through this summer."

"Don't tell me you're jealous, too," Token laughed.

"No one's laughing with you, Token," Clyde sneered.

"Christ, dude," Token glared at Clyde, "you have to admit the whole situation's stupid. So what if Marsh doesn't want to date any of the girls?"

"You're only saying that because now you can have them unopposed," Clyde grumbled.

"You say that like you don't have any game," Token teased. Tweek began his periodic squealing and panicked grunts.

"Fuck you."

"At least someone is."

Craig sighed and poked his cold spaghetti with his plastic fork. Clyde was right in that he really shouldn't be addressing the girls and their assumptions at all. He and Stan weren't dating, weren't even really 'pals' as Kevin had put it, and certainly weren't _boyfriends_. They hadn't really spent a whole lot of time together during the break, either. Just the occasional lunch during their shifts and the usage of his free movie pass benefits. Granted, he furrowed his eyebrows as he reflected on it, you generally didn't go to the movies or meal with the same person more than once a week. You also didn't have dinners with their families, show off your anime collection, or eat baked treats they made. No matter how he tried to dress it up he was no longer a mutual acquaintance or childhood rival or whatever.

He pushed aside the thought, what did it matter what his relationship to Stan was? He didn't know what to think about the blatant suggestions the entire school seemed intent on making about them. Occasionally someone would ask why he wouldn't just deny the whole thing and let it die there. Part of him knew that it wouldn't end even if he announced over the p.a. system that he and Stan Marsh were not a couple. The other part didn't want to say either way because it was just too much fun to watch everyone squirm at the implications of what he was saying. _Again_, he reminded himself, _only Marsh and I know that nothing is going on and everyone else can fuck off._

"Great," Clyde groaned, "here comes Wendy."

"Hey boys," Wendy beamed at everyone in turn leaving Craig for last. "How's it going?"

"Pretty good," Kevin laughed nervously. "Lots of company today."

Tweek mumbled about girls and pressure.

"I can see," she didn't take her eyes off of Craig. Now it was officially ridiculous. How many stare downs did he have to do with Wendy Testaburger before she got a fucking clue? Every time he passed her in the halls or the library she'd smile like she knew some secret that simply didn't exist. It had been like that ever since the start of school and as the weeks kept passing he was getting really tired of her act.

"Is there something I can help you with, Testaburger?" He gave his spaghetti a final stab but held on to the fork.

"There actually is, Craig," she tucked some of her hair behind her ear and sat down directly across from him uninvited. "I wanted to know if you were done with your lunch so we could have a little chat."

Craig glanced at his friends. Token was preoccupied with staring at Testaburger's breasts, Kevin and Tweek were both looking nervously at each other, and Clyde met his eyes and shook his head slightly. Craig looked back at Wendy.

_Time to end this_, he thought. "Sure."

"Fuck," Clyde sighed as Wendy shot him a thousand watt smile. Craig took his time standing up and throwing his messenger bag around his torso. He piled up his trash and followed Wendy out of the cafeteria. He shoved his empty hands into the pockets of his hoodie, smirking to himself at the repetition of history, and followed Wendy to the same courtyard Kyle had led him to.

"So," Wendy sat down on a stone bench tucked away in a corner. "I wanted to talk to you about—"

"Marsh," Craig said flatly. "I get it."

Wendy tilted her head to the side and frowned. _Another damn dog_, Craig mentally sighed.

"Right, but why don't you sit down?"

"I prefer to stand."

"Is the soreness as bad as they say?" She smiled cheekily at him.

"Does it _look_ like I take it up the ass?"

Wendy openly laughed at that and Craig allowed himself to smirk a little. Wendy wasn't going to ride him about this Stan thing like the other girls but he wasn't fooled.

"What's your agenda here, Testaburger?"

She managed to get halfway through a fake insulted face before sighing and slouching back on the bench. She rubbed at her eyes surprising Craig with a seldom show of exhaustion. When she opened her eyes she gave him a small smile.

"The girls are complaining about Homecoming."

Craig laughed under his breath and looked around the courtyard. "I suppose that means you're giving up on him?"

"That would make one less enemy for you, huh?"

"We _aren't_ together."

"I know," she stared at him without any trace of hostility.

Craig regarded her thoughtfully for a few moments before slowly walking to the bench and sitting down next to her. She patted him on the knee.

"That's better."

"What does this have to do with me?"

"Well, Red wants your permission to take him to the dance. Heidi has promised to share him with you at the dance and after party in North Park. Millie wanted to know if she could nominate you for Homecoming Queen."

Craig blinked at her slowly. "Are all of your friends fucking retarded?"

Wendy smiled in sympathy. "No one is a friend of mine if they make me act as ambassador of someone else's senior year."

Craig groaned and leaned his head back to stare at the sky. "Why didn't you talk to Marsh about asking someone? Or suggest you two just go as friends so people can get on with their fucking lives?"

"Who are you taking to Homecoming?" Wendy crossed her legs and leaned towards him slightly.

"No one. I don't participate in that kind of shit."

Wendy made a disappointed noise. "Well, I did talk to Stan about taking a girl on a Friends Only status. He wants to go with the person he likes."

"So why doesn't he just ask her already?"

"It's a little more complicated that than," Wendy said hesitatingly.

"Again," he felt his patience wearing thin, "what does this have to do with me?"

"Well, I was wondering," Wendy fiddled with the hem of her skirt. "I was wondering if you might consider asking him."

Craig responded with a glare.

"All of your friends have dates. Even Tweek is going with that home schooled girl from Middle Park."

Craig didn't move a muscle. She could not be serious about this.

"Right," she held up her hands and looked away, "because it isn't completely normal for a couple of guys to go as friends or anything."

"Then why doesn't he go with Broflovski?" Craig was starting to feel annoyed and it wasn't the usual kind of annoyance that came with being forced to participate in social situations.

"Kyle is going with Annie," she twirled some hair around her finger. "And before you ask Kenny and Cartman are also going with dates."

"I suppose you're out as just friends as well?"

"I have a date," she didn't look at all apologetic about it.

"Right," Craig took a deep breath. "My going with Marsh as Friends Only isn't going to cause more of a scene either, huh?"

Wendy smirked at him. "I thought you didn't care about all this drama?"

Craig looked at her flatly.

"You know," she leaned forward, turning her head close to his, "you _did_ tell Bebe and me that you'd take him some place nice."

Craig looked at her in resignation. He knew where this was going.

"Some place 'classier than a darkened laundry room for a quick feel up' if I remember correctly."

Craig looked away and smirked. He had really enjoyed that one.

"I'd hate to see you made into a liar, Craig."

They both looked towards the building as the after lunch bell rang. Wendy let her shoulders sag and sighed.

"Just give it some thought. No one will judge you," she winked at him before getting up and heading into the building.

Craig stayed a moment longer working the muscle in his jaw. Homecoming would be the second dumbest experience of his high school career and he already knew that his parents weren't going to let him off the hook over prom. His mother actually had money put to the side for his tux. He groaned and headed inside the building.

Part of the reason the rumors were still circulating was that Craig and Stan shared almost all of their classes this year. Obviously Craig wasn't in football and Stan wasn't in Photography but aside from Craig's theatre tech class and Stan taking a writing elective they had the same schedule. He figured he would have just enough time before their English class to stop Stan at his locker and get this horrible idea over with. Sure enough Stan was frantically rummaging through his locker while Kenny stood nearby laughing at him. Craig ran a hand through his hair and steadily approached feeling like a complete fool.

"Hey," he felt his body temperature sky rocket as he realized he was actually going to do this.

Stan straightened up and looked at him with wide eyes. "Hey, Craig."

"Oh," Kenny rolled his eyes with that stupid shit eating grin on his face, "look at the time I'd better go away." He winked at Craig and whistled a tune that sounded suspiciously like a certain Celine Dion song.

Stan looked panicked for a moment as Kenny took off before facing Craig again. "Sorry about that." He gave him a timid smile.

Craig studied Stan's face for a moment. Ever since that day in Physics when he bolted out of the classroom and cut the rest of the day with Kyle, Craig had noticed Stan acted incredibly skittish around him. Some times Stan would do an about face when they spied each other in the hallways and other times he caught Stan blatantly staring at him. It was actually kind of funny when that happened while they were seated at the same table because Craig would reach over and firmly close Stan's jaw as he called him a human waterfall. It wasn't interesting _at all_ how red the football player's face got after that.

Craig shook his head a little and sighed. "So, Marsh, what are your plans for Homecoming?"

Craig watched as the color appeared to drain from Stan's face and almost wanted to laugh at the way his mouth flapped open and closed like a suffocating fish.

"Playing in the game?" Stan's eyes darted around.

Craig nodded. "After that?"

Stan took a deep breath and turned his attention back to his locker. "Well, I was hoping to go with someone but it isn't going to work out like I want."

Craig felt a pang of something incredibly foreign and unidentifiable in his chest and licked his lips. "All our friends are going with dates."

Stan simply gave him a single nod placing a hand lightly on his English textbook.

"Maybe we could go stag," Craig looked up at the ceiling noting how dirty the tiles were.

"Really?" Craig turned his head to look at Stan. He looked slightly wide eyed again and Craig found it encouraging and so uncharacteristically Stan Marsh, popular jock. He kind of liked it.

"Yeah," Craig said slowly, "senior year and all that. Why not?"

"Why not," Stan repeated and looked like he was struggling over something.

"Unless, of course, you'd rather try your person again."

"No," Stan startled him with the volume of his voice. "No, it'd be cooler to go stag." Stan nodded his head.

"All right," Craig blinked. Why did this feel like it was turning into something completely different from what he originally thought? "So we'll hash it out later?"

"Yeah," Stan grinned at him. "It'll be great. I mean, the dance will suck but we can go later just before everyone heads out to the after party."

Craig nodded. "Sounds good."

"Great," Stan's grin grew if it was at all possible and Craig found himself struggling to keep his own from spreading across his face. "This is perfect."

"Grab your book before we're late," Craig turned his head away. He watched from the corner of his eyes as Stan pulled out his book and shut his locker. Stan fell in step beside him as they made their way towards their class. Craig continued to watch Stan from the corner of his eye. Stan must not have realized because he had a small, shy smile on his face. Craig felt his lips part as he realized that Stan was happy that he, Craig Tucker, had asked him to go with him to Homecoming. Stag, of course.

He had made Stan happy and Craig looked away in time to see Millie, Red, and Heidi halt their conversation with an exasperated looking Wendy. Wendy blinked and looked between him and Stan then smiled at Craig.

"So everything's settled then?"

Craig smirked back at her. "Guess so."

"That's all right then," Wendy lifted a hand to cover her widening smile.

"What's that about." Stan asked him but when Craig looked at him Stan looked too distracted for a proper answer. It only fueled Craig's desire to toy with the girls again.

"Just them searching for some confirmation," Craig smirked at the girls. Wendy laughed while the other three gaped at them.

"_Unbelievable_," he heard the girls shrieking as he and Stan passed them in the hall. "What the hell is he thinking?"

"I don't know," he heard Wendy respond carefully. Craig was pretty sure that even though the girls were referring to Stan, Wendy was talking about him.

* * *

><p>"Stan," Kyle laughed from behind him on his bed, "you know there isn't any point in preening for the dance now when you have to play the game first."<p>

Stan frowned at his super best friend through the mirror and looked back at his own reflection. His nervousness only increased as he took in the faint sheen of sweat starting on his forehead, two bright blue eyes nearly without their pupils, and hair twisted awkwardly around his ears. He felt like he was twelve years old at his first boy-girl party all over again.

"What if he figures it out and freaks?"

"What if he figures it out and says its okay?"

"There's no way," Stan watched as his anxiety spread across his brows.

Kyle chuckled and moved from Stan's bed to stand next to him in front of his mirror. "I'm pretty sure it will be okay." They fell silent watching their reflections in the mirror. Kyle smiled, "You should tell him."

"No way," Stan pushed away from his dresser and began pacing his room. He was supposed to leave in half an hour to get ready for the game. Usually this time was spent to get his mind focused but he was too excited for after the game. The only reason he wasn't making a complete ass of himself was because of Kyle.

"I really think you should, Stan."

"Kyle, I've been so freaked out for two months over this…" he took a deep breath just like he and Kyle had practiced, "this crush."

Kyle grinned at him.

"He's been acting nonchalant about the rumors but I'm terrified over what he'll do when I tell him they aren't rumors." Stan crossed his arms and looked out his window.

Kyle gave him a very masculine slap on the back. "It'll either go really well or…" Kyle let the sentence hang in the air with a wave of his hand.

"Fantastic," Stan swallowed, hoping his lunch wouldn't make another appearance.

"Dude," Kyle laughed and hugged his shoulder. "It'll be okay. Just, hold off until the after party. Have a few beers, work up the courage, and pull him to the side and tell him. Easy."

"Easy," Stan repeated. "Beer, man up, tell him."

"Exactly," Kyle smiled. "I seriously doubt it'll go as bad as you fear."

"Beer, man up, tell him," Stan chanted repeatedly under his breath as Kyle laughed and pushed him out the door to head back to campus.

He had already left his clothes for the evening in his locker in the locker room. Every time he went to pull something out of his locker, his hand would brush the fabric which would cause his heartbeat to start racing again. He knew this was getting out of hand so he quickly finished suiting out and forced himself to focus. By the time the coaches entered the locker room for the pre-game pep talk he was ready for the field.

Stan had a finely honed ability to tap into a different part of his psyche when he played the game. He was focused, driven, and executed the plays flawlessly. There was still much to be said for his technique but no one doubted his abilities as a quarterback. If he had tried harder at training camps he might have a shot at a full scholarship. Instead, Stan played the sport for fun. It was exhilarating to be a more primal version of his self. He felt like he could tackle any problem, literally, head on.

The fact that this was the school's homecoming game meant most of the team was feeling extra pressure. The rest were distracted over the post-game festivities. Stan felt confident the team could win, and by the end of the third quarter he knew they had it in the bag. He removed his helmet and motioned to one of the trainers for some water. He scanned the crowd absentmindedly as he caught his breath. He felt disgusting and sweaty but everyone was cheering them on. Spectators often forgot how important of a part they played in boosting their team's morale.

As he took a refreshing drink of water he happened to spy some familiar faces that managed to stick out among the shiny mums pinned to damn near every person in the stands. Kyle had an arm around his date, Annie, who had on one of the most ridiculous mums Stan had ever seen. You could tell it had been made by Sheila Broflovski. Kyle smiled and waved to him before slapping the arm of the person next to him.

Even from across the field he managed to find himself at a loss for words over Craig's eyes.

Craig had his head tilted so he could hear Kyle speak and still look in Stan's direction. Once he figured out which one he was, Stan saw Craig give him a slight smirk and jutted his chin up once. Stan's stomach did a flip flop. _Craig actually came to see him play_. Well, maybe he had been talked into showing up with one of his friends but Stan allowed himself to pretend it had been for him. He took another drink of water and wiped his already soaked towel across his sweaty forehead.

Craig looked good.

"Marsh," his coach yelled. "Let's get back out there and wrap this up!"

"Yes sir," Stan murmured, tearing his eyes off of Craig at the last possible moment.

The game lasted only fifteen more minutes with the Park County High team winning by a fairly decent margin. Everyone in the stadium erupted into cheers the squad could still hear from deep inside the locker room. Stan sat on the bench next to his locker and waited for most of the other guys to clean up and change for the dance. He wanted to be one of the first so he could get a better look at Craig but it was best to cool his jets. Everyone knew he didn't have a date and to rush out to Craig would have caused him to have yet another awkward ethics lecture with the head coach. Really, Stan wasn't fooled by the "this is a man's sport" bravado pounded into his ears. There were gay players out there.

He shook his head as he gathered up his things to use in the shower. While he admitted he liked Craig, he wasn't sure if that really made him gay. He still found himself looking at girls. On television and in magazines. He almost felt ashamed of how impulsive he was being just telling Craig how he felt instead of looking at what that meant in the bigger picture.

By the time he was done cleaning up the majority of the locker room had cleared out leaving only the trace of cologne and spray on deodorant in the air. Stan carefully dried his hair and got dressed in his special occasion suit with bright blue tie. He checked himself in the mirror, satisfied that he looked his best, and after putting away his things for the weekend he head out of the locker room.

Only a few players were in the hallway just outside of the room milling around with their dates. Stan realized his palms had gotten super sweaty in the short span of three minutes and rubbed them on his pant legs.

"Maybe this is a bad idea," he murmured as he walked down the hall. He had no idea where to find Craig and wondered for a moment if there had been a change of plans and everyone took off for the after party instead of the dance.

"There you are," a low voice sounded from behind him. Stan whipped around so quickly he almost toppled over. "You were taking for fucking ever."

"Sorry," Stan hoped his smile wasn't as awkward as he felt. He took a moment to survey Craig and was pleasantly surprised. He was wearing a nice fitting dark grey three piece suit with a charcoal tie. His hair was hanging just so in front of his eyes but the color scheme made them pop out even more vividly than he saw from the field. "You clean up nice."

Craig looked taken aback for a fraction of a second then smirked. "Damn straight, I do."

"No seriously," Stan said in a slight daze, "I'm impressed."

"Whatever," Craig rolled his left shoulder in a gesture of indifference that threatened to make Stan turn into a pile of undignified goo on the floor. "Let's check out this stupid dance."

"Right," Stan was thankful that Craig chose that moment to turn his back on him and lead the way to the school gymnasium. He let out the giant smile he had been holding back and followed Craig's retreating back. Craig slowed his pace so Stan could catch up. Stan tried to think of something to say; just the sound of their dress shoes echoing off the walls of the hall brought up all the insecurities he had been feeling earlier.

He glanced over at Craig. Craig had always been a few inches taller than him but right now he seemed so much taller. It appeared that where Stan had filled in more thanks to sports, Craig had grown tall and lean. Stan breathed a laugh and realized that Craig knew he looked good. He was merely stroking his own ego by walking with his back straighter than usual, his right arm holding back the side of his jacket with his hand in his pocket. Whatever doubts Stan had about his physical attraction to Craig flew out the window.

"There it is," Craig murmured as they approached the sounds of music reverberating through the gym. Stan felt his stomach rotating again as laughter from the other students broke through. "Let's get this over with."

Stan nodded and the two walked in through the open double gym doors. Stan grimaced at the décor and spied from the corner of his eye that Craig was doing the same.

"Like a fucking pink cake," Craig growled.

Stan let out all of his earlier nervousness in a bark of laughter. "I was thinking the same thing."

Craig smirked at him and pointed towards some tables set to the side. "I told Clyde to grab us from over there when everyone was heading out."

Stan nodded and followed as Craig led the way towards them. He looked around at the faces of the crowd for familiar ones and blinked as they stared back. Only they weren't looking at him, he turned his head in time to see Craig notice all the attention he was getting. He looked incredibly uncomfortable. It made Stan smile.

They sat at the same table for almost forty minutes, the entire time people seemed to be cueing up to compliment Craig. A few girls had even gathered the courage to ask him for a dance. He refused them all, much to Stan's joy and amazement, in a toned down version of his typical fashion.

"No thanks," he said flatly as the tenth girl fidgeted in front of them. Not that Stan had been counting.

"Oh, okay," she smiled sheepishly and skittered off to her group of friends. They all joined hands and squealed excitedly. _Freshmen_, Stan rolled his eyes.

"Hey there, stud," Kenny's voice shouted from three feet away. Stan shook his head in amusement. Kenny wrapped his arm around Bebe's waist and pointed at Stan and Craig. "Everyone's just about ready to go. Who are you riding with?"

"We're driving ourselves," Craig flicked some nonexistent dust off his knee before standing. Stan ran his tongue over his bottom lip.

"All right, all right, so you're Stan's designated driver," Kenny winked at them.

"I'm not getting drunk tonight, Kenny."

"I, however, am. So, Craig, you wanna be my sexy d.d.?"

Craig looked at Stan then back at Kenny. "I wasn't planning on it."

"You wouldn't force me to drive home?"

"You don't have a car, McCormick," Craig smirked. "If you're ready to go when I am, then you can ride but no fucking, groping, or slurping in my backseat."

"Ah, saving that special place for yourself, I see," Bebe leered.

"Especially not with her," Craig pointed in Bebe's direction without breaking eye contact with Kenny.

"Got it," Kenny mock saluted him. "Let's get the fuck out of here."

The ride to North Park wasn't as awkward as Stan thought it would be. Despite Craig's rules, Kenny kept running his hands suggestively over Bebe's leg just enough to incite giggle fits. Stan gave Craig sympathetic smiles every time he glanced his way. Stan could tell he was annoyed. His knuckles were white on his steering wheel.

The moment they got to the party Kenny and Bebe took off in the direction of the stairs. Just like in South Park, nearly every house in North Park had been built using the same floor plan. Difficult to make your home stand out amongst neighbors; easy for home invasions and navigation during social events.

"You lead the way," Craig smirked at him. Stan gave a short nervous laugh and headed in the direction of the living room. On this street, Stan had noted from earlier parties, there was a short hallway that offshoot from the living rooms. If they could elbow indiscreet gropers it would be the perfect place for Stan to gather his courage to confess to Craig. Stan was surprised to see the area was free of occupants and leaned against the wall just inside the hallway while Craig stood nearby.

They watched the dancers and occasionally peered into the open kitchen to see who was there and what drunken game was going on. Half an hour flew by before Stan realized and over half of the party was drunk on festivities and the team's victory. Usually Stan was offered drinks but every party he went to with Craig now saw that tradition gone. Glancing at Craig's profile, Stan couldn't say he was sorry to miss it.

"Excuse me," a shaky female voice caused both Stan and Craig to turn towards it. A very tiny blonde in a short green dress giggled red faced at them in turn before making eye contact with Craig. "I was wondering if we could dance."

"Fuck off," Craig glared at the girl, startling her out of what only moments ago was obvious drunkenness. Stan almost felt sorry for her and turned to tell Craig to cool it when he felt him prop his elbow up against the wall right behind his head. _I'm pinned_, he thought. Craig continued to glare at the girl until the crowd had swallowed her whole then turned his gaze back to Stan. He felt himself struggling for breath at the close proximity. All he had to do was lean forward just a couple of inches and he could kiss him. It seemed like an impossible void to breach.

"That wasn't nice," he breathed, startling himself with the volume of his voice but it hadn't really been anything louder than a whisper.

"I don't need to collect any groupies," Craig titled his head just a fraction, staring at Stan with such intensity he wondered if he'd get to kiss him after all – of Craig's own volition.

"Still," Stan half-heartedly reprimanded. "Everyone just wants to compliment you. Don't be a jerk."

"I don't care about other people's opinions," Stan wondered if Craig could force his voice into a lower register than he was using at the moment. He felt his heart thump as the words sunk in. Again with that intensity. Stan knew he was getting carried away and hadn't had a single beer but it felt right, so…

"Craig."

Craig's eyes signaled his attentiveness. Stan braced his full back against the wall head bumping Craig's hand, while he placed both of his own palms flush against the wall.

"I like you."

Craig's stare softened and his lips parted ever so slightly. _Closer_, Stan thought. _Please come closer to me._

"I _like_ you," he repeated.

Craig's expression didn't change and Stan didn't care if it ever did. He finally said it and even though he had thought it a million times, bored Kyle and Kenny with it a thousand more, it finally felt right. It was in cement now, there was no going back.

Finally Craig nodded slightly and searched his eyes.

"Okay."

Stan let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding. It wasn't a yes since there hadn't been a question. It wasn't rejection, either judging by the fact Craig still hadn't put any distance between them. But it wasn't a full reciprocation, which sank like lead in his chest.

"Let me think about it," Craig said.

"Okay."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Nice pause! I'm always really pleased when it comes to doing my final edits for these chapters because I wrote these first five like… months ago and they still affect me the way I want. Awesome~

Anyway, I wanted to thank you guys for your reviews and the like. Every time I see an e-mail about this story my jaw just drops. I didn't think anyone would like it because it's so drawn out but… my goal was to do something a little more realistic than 'suddenly he smiled and I knew I loved him and wanted to bend him over the library table!' Not that those are bad or anything it's just nice to have a change of pace every once in a while, right?

I wanted to leave you with a longer note than usual this time talking about this story because I've been pretty regular about posting chapters but the next one might take a little longer. Craig's being a dick and I'm having issues fleshing him out. I had originally hoped to stop this story at seven chapters and then make a sequel but the more I read over it all (I have up to like… chapter seven and a half done) the more rushed it feels. I really hope to convey their growth as individuals and moving into a relationship, etc. Yadda, yadda, yadda, and sap on a stick. It'll come along just fine in the end, though. It's the first fic in a while that I've written with this length where I have a very clear, precise point where I want to end it. _Quarters for a Five Dollar Bill_ doesn't count because it was originally an exercise in porn and I believe we agree that was rather successful since it's so damn short.

This is too long but really – thank you guys for the reviews, favs, and subscribes. It's really great you've taken some time out to tell me what you think and I hope my appreciation will show through as the fic progresses. Till next time~


	5. Worlds Collide

For Gentlemen Only

Chapter Five: Worlds Collide

Craig can admit it – he's curious, but all this gay stuff is a little intimidating. Stan is beginning to think this whole venture was a glorious waste of time.

* * *

><p>His soft black hair dulled the colored lights around them. He wore a black suit that fit snuggly over his shoulders and awkwardly around his waist. His dress shirt had a barely noticeable stain semi-covered by a light blue tie he figured his mother had picked out. It had some sort of weave design in a slightly lighter colored thread. It made his eyes stick out more, piercing and blue. He had been so distracted by them he leaned in closer transferring some of his weight into the arm he rested behind Stan's head. If he hadn't been looking at his face he might have missed the soft formation of his slightly girlish looking lips when he said it.<p>

"I like you."

Craig felt his lips part as instinct compelled him to lean in for just a sample. He could still hear the party around them, which helped keep him from doing it. Thankfully Stan didn't get discouraged and actually looked at him with what Craig thought was longing. It made Craig wonder if he was having another one of those wet dreams featuring Stan that had infuriatingly increased since he suggested they go to Homecoming together.

"I _like_ you," Stan repeated with more resolve. Craig found at that moment that he cared enough about Stan to not want to hurt his feelings but this was not the time to examine his own.

"Okay," he said feeling Stan's breath brush the front of his neck. What he needed was more time to properly decide what to do about this.

"Let me think about it," Craig said.

"Okay," Stan replied and seemed content with that. They stayed in that little corner just looking at each other without exchanging words or returning the ones others threw at them. It was by no means quiet and under different circumstances it would actually creep him out but Craig didn't feel any discomfort at all. Not even after he drove Stan home where he suddenly turned to him with a panicked look in his eyes. Craig reflexively gave him a small smile and Stan instantly calmed. When he got home and plopped face first down on his own bed he gave it some thought.

He could admit that his teasing of the girls had gone too far. So far, in fact, it had resulted in those wet dreams featuring Stan skillfully running his hands all over his body making Craig feel so fucking alive and desperate to fumble with his own hands in a similar fashion. His parents had each had a turn walking in on the waking side of at least one of those dreams. There had been a whole week of awkward smiles and silent conversation over breakfast. Craig cursed the Marsh household with his mind and flicked bits of cereal out of his bowl.

He could admit to having a bit of a freak out as well. After all, who expects to have the very male quarterback of the football team confess that he likes you? In a very public place, too, despite the fact you feel like you are the only two people in the world. It took every bit of effort to collect his thoughts to shut up the voice in the back of his mind screaming _Answer him! Answer him right now!_ Though said voice didn't tell him _what_ to say so he decided to pause for intermission.

Craig felt like the faggiest fag that ever fagged in the history of fagdom. The more he did think about Stan in that light the more appealing the idea became. So appealing, in fact, it took him until the early hours of the morning to finally fall asleep after Homecoming. His mind raced with thoughts of the evening and the implications of what it all meant. He took a deep breath glaring at his red eyed reflection in the bathroom mirror as he got ready for work. There was one thing he absolutely knew for certain – he _was_ interested in Stan Marsh.

He didn't know how far this thing could keep going. When he thought about how normal relationships were done he couldn't help but grimace and feel his insides constrict. He could admit he thought about kissing Stan and the dreams he had every couple of days made it clear to him he had a physical attraction to him. They needed to go on a date. The problem was that he only had references in books, television, and film about how dates were conducted with a male and a female. He was not about to get caught watching a gay/lesbian television series since at any moment one of his family members or a friend could drop in unannounced. He had to figure it out soon, though. He would look down at his hands folded in his lap while a movie would play on his television originally put in to distract him from his worries but ultimately unable to.

The first problem he was having was figuring out how it all worked. He hadn't kissed anyone since junior high and frankly wasn't any good at it. At least, not in comparison with Stan and his girlfriend after girlfriend after girlfriend routine that earned him enough experience to kiss someone without even thinking too much about it he supposed. He would let out a frustrated groan whenever he thought about the difference in their skill levels. He wanted to be good at it, he wanted to rock Stan's world, and he wanted to quit thinking in terms of clichéd 90s films.

The other issue was that the longer Craig put this off the more certain he was that Stan would drop him and go after someone else. He really didn't think he could sit there and watch Stan look, touch, or smile at another human being the way he wanted Stan to with him. Craig did his best to keep this thought locked up when they were together because it made him feel like such a needy chick. He also ignored the clenching of his stomach when they were together and Stan subtly dropping hints he was still waiting for him. And he really was subtle about it much to Craig's surprise. The only really big difference in Stan's behavior around him was that Craig caught him openly looking at him more or commenting during commercials for movies, bowling alleys, or even the fucking circus that "We could go do that." Craig would shift uncomfortably but inside he thought "That would be fun."

The funny thing was that they continued to hang out fairly regularly the entire time. Stan invited Craig over to watch Thanksgiving Day parades on TV and came over the following weekend for a GONZO animation marathon. Stan had insisted on sitting really close so that every time Craig went to grab a handful of popcorn their arms would brush and he could feel the resistance of the bowl pressing into Stan's leg. It was a little ridiculous to be so self-conscious about Stan's presence but Craig swore it was warranted. Especially when he accidentally fell asleep on Stan's shoulder and woke up feeling a small puddle of his own drool seeping into Stan's sweatshirt and fingers playing with his hair. He promptly socked Stan in the thigh with absolute force because the hair thing didn't feel all sorts of wonderful tingly causing Craig to make some embarrassing sound _at all_.

The downtime at the theatre gave Craig a lot of time to think about Stan's confession. He had always been suspicious of his sincerity in it but realized that Stan was being completely honest with him. It happened when he managed to take home some film and he began excitedly rambling about the booth and the projectors and stopped mid-sentence when he saw the wistful look on Stan's face. He knew at that moment he couldn't avoid making a decision for much longer.

"Let's get this stupid final review done and go home," Craig sighed as they bent their heads over the same workspace in the library the week before finals.

"I don't want to go home," Stan chewed the end of his pencil and watched Craig. At least, he thought he was being watched. Craig had his head bent over his notes and tried discreetly to let out a shaky breath. The tension between them was palpable but Craig still couldn't act on it. "Can you get this Thursday off work?"

"Why?"

"I figured we could do something."

He looked up eyes meeting Stan's.

Stan smiled warmly. "I just figure it might help my case if we spent some time together."

"We do," Craig mumbled a little defensively. "You watch shit at my house all the time."

"I mean in a different kind of setting, Craig. A proper date."

"I'm still thinking," he said quietly and turned back to their work.

"I know," Stan's voice was light like his smile. Craig looked from the corner of his eyes as Stan reshuffled his papers. "No pressure, Craig."

The truth of the matter was that Craig did have some free time but he had already booked it with Clyde since he was getting whiny about not spending time together like they used to. His friends were suspicious about their frequent study times and were understandably jumpy when Craig actually joined them for lunch during the last week before winter break.

"Long time no see," Token said. Craig nodded in reply. His eyes followed Stan as he moved from the lunch line to his own table of friends. Before he sat down, he turned towards Craig's table and gave a smile and wave. Craig raised a hand in return only to quickly drop it as Tweek gave out a rather loud yelp.

"_Jesus Christ_, it's true!"

"What's true, Tweek?" Kevin asked before biting into his sandwich.

"I heard some people talk about it in Spanish a few weeks ago," Tweek fidgeted in his seat under the attention of the entire table. "They said Stan had asked Craig out on a date during Homecoming."

"Like the holding hands, he pays for dinner, and then you kiss him good night kind?" Clyde's expression was torn between horror and fascination.

"What the fuck kind of date do you think I'd go on holding hands with _anyone_ let alone Stan Marsh, dumbass," Craig growled, hoping a little extra anger would mask the sure reddening of his face. "Why would I kiss him?"

"Because you like him," Kevin nudged him in the side Craig's murderous glare ineffective on him.

"I'll keep my mouth shut about it being Stan," Token's eyes widened as he exhaled sharply, "but I'm glad you're finally dating _somebody_."

"You guys are dicks," Craig shifted uncomfortably in his seat and looked away with a dark expression on his face. "We aren't dating."

"Why not?" Clyde blinked at him honestly. "Kev is right. You like him back, Craig. The whole school is waiting for you guys to go ahead and hook up already so we can get on with our lives. Let him ask you out if you're too much of a pussy to do it yourself. We can hang the next time you get a day off work."

Craig opened his mouth to reply but closed it immediately under the full table's attention. He wasn't fooled by Clyde's words spewing out of his stupid ass grin. His eyes darted from face to face. Token was looking at him with an expression that showed he agreed with Clyde. Tweek looked anxious like it was his fault. Kevin nibbled on his sandwich in an unsuccessful attempt to cover his smile.

He slammed his fists so hard into the table's surface it silenced the entire lunchroom's conversations momentarily. Craig growled and slump his back further forward under their bewildered stares.

"_Fine_," he hissed and waited until the usual cafeteria chatter resumed. He tried to keep his emotions in check as he shoved away from his seat; the chair made a loud scraping sound across the floor. He flipped off Clyde and his quirked eyebrow and amused smirk before stalking over to Stan's table.

"Oh lord," Cartman sighed and leaned his hefty weight on one elbow as Craig approached, "don't we hear enough about this faggot from Stan's cock sucking mouth? Now he has to disrupt our lunch with their nauseous making out, too?"

"Shut the fuck up, Cartman," Kyle responded automatically. He gave Craig an amused nod and Craig couldn't stop his middle finger from replying. He hadn't flipped people off this much since middle school.

"Craig," Kenny grinned. "We were just discussing you, actually."

"I gathered," he replied flatly. He met eyes with Stan, who had the reddest face Craig had ever seen, and nodded to his shy smile.

"What's up, Craig?"

He shoved his hands into his pockets aware of all the stares they were getting at the moment. He cleared his throat and looked at a small drop of milk next to Stan's sandwich.

"I'm free Thursday."

He knew without seeing it that Stan, Kyle, and Kenny all had equal looks of surprise on their faces. He also knew Cartman was grimacing but he didn't give two shits about his opinion.

"Oh," Stan said in a forced, light voice. "Great!"

"Yeah," Craig scratched the back of his head wondering when this awkward exchange would end so he could scuttle back to his table and die.

"That's great, Craig," Kenny's voice dripping with evidence of his stupid grin. "Where are you taking our dear Stanley?"

"Fuck that," Stan startled everyone by piping up a little defensively. "_I'm_ taking _him_ out."

"Does it really matter, Stan, since the guy you like is finally showing some acceptance of your feelings?" Kyle arched a meaningful eyebrow at his friend. Craig didn't know whether to feel grateful or pound his stupid freckled face in with his fist. Really, did he have to be so loud about it?

Stan, however, either didn't get the hint or was choosing to ignore it. "I was the one to ask. That means _I _get to orchestrate our date."

Craig cringed inwardly. "Could you keep it _down_, fucktard?"

"You guys are going on a date?" Craig turned his head just far enough to register it was Wendy Testaburger with some of her groupies around her. They were all cross armed glaring daggers at Craig but Wendy had a slight smile on her face. "That's great!"

"Great?" Red glared at Wendy. "What?"

"It's about fucking time, Craig," Wendy ignored the girls and smiled genuinely at him. "I hope you guys have fun."

"Wendy, this is disgusting! I can't believe you," Millie gasped at her. The other girls nodded in agreement. Craig felt even more uncomfortable than he had after working up the courage to accept Stan's offer. He glanced at Stan's dejected body language; Craig might not give two shits what the rest of the student population thought but Stan obviously still did. Suddenly he felt pure, unadulterated rage towards the girls.

"Listen," he coolly turned to block Stan from the girls' view, "I've been putting up with your shit for far too fucking long. You seriously have nothing better to do with your time than pine after some guy who isn't going to give you the time of day? _Ever?_"

"That's not what this is about, Craig Tucker," one of them hissed at him.

"_Enough_," he shouted, once again causing the cafeteria to fall silent. This time some teachers had the presence of mind to poke their heads in. "I don't care what your issue is about," he took a step back and grabbed Stan by the arm forcing him to his feet. "_This_ is none of your concern, however, so _butt the fuck out_."

He squeezed Stan's arm just enough to convey for him not to argue and led him out of the cafeteria among shocked faces and gasps when they passed tables on their way out. He marched by the confused faculty with Stan in tow until they got all the way towards the vacant hallway outside of the art room. He released his hold on Stan's arm, turned his back to him, and clinched his fists trying very hard to tune down the anger that kept his mind from forming coherent thoughts.

"Craig," Stan's voice broke through the rage hesitant and calm. "It's cool. I didn't mean…"

"How can they talk like that," Craig growled at the wall. "What the fuck gives them the right?"

Stan stayed silent for a few minutes while Craig controlled his breathing. "It bothers you now?"

"How can they talk like that to _you_?" Craig spun around and glared. Stan looked taken aback and Craig felt stupid for making him open and close his mouth repeatedly like a fish. Craig seethed. He had hoped Stan would get that Craig wasn't just doing this out of peer pressure or anything. He really wanted to try this out and sure, having his friends voice some support helped his courage, but it was still embarrassing as hell. This wasn't going the way he wanted _at all_.

"Craig," Stan took a hesitant step forward, "you don't have to protect me, you know."

"What," Craig said stupidly, feeling his shoulders fall.

"You don't realize you're doing that?" Stan raised an eyebrow in question. Craig continued to stare. Stan's eyes were full of apprehension but he continued to step closer to him. "Every time they brought me up you'd protect me. You didn't see that?"

Craig felt his lips part but he couldn't respond. Thinking about it, he had kind of been defending Stan and watching out for him in his own way. Even while he had been deliberating over Stan's confession this had been happening. "_Shit_."

"There we go," Stan smiled and leaned back on his heels. "I'll make it up to you on our date. We'll go to Denver where no one from school will be around, okay?"

Craig took a deep breath and shoved his hands into his pockets. "How is this going to work, exactly?"

"Oh," Stan said intelligently. "This is going to be quite a bit different. Listen, we can just figure that out as we go along." Craig stared at him causing Stan to shrug innocently. "What?"

Craig sighed. "Denver?"

"Denver," Stan put his hands together and peered at Craig cautiously. "We'll do dinner and then go to this arcade I really like. If you want, we can go someplace you like, too."

Craig closed his eyes and exhaled the last of his anger before opening them and shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "No Italian."

Stan beamed at him. "Really?"

"Abso-fucking-lutely," Craig threw his hands in the air around his shoulders. "I will _not_ have you trying to fucking kiss me with garlic breath."

"You'd let me kiss you?"

Craig really wanted to punch the fucker right in his stupid grinning face.

"All right, all right," Stan said laughing. "We'll go slow and work this out in our own way."

Craig grunted in appreciation.

"I'm really looking forward to this, Craig." Stan smiled at him. "You won't regret this."

Craig simply rolled his shoulders in response not knowing what else to say. When they headed back towards the cafeteria Stan's mood was elevated to the level of giddy. Craig wanted to punch him for being so goddamned obvious but realized he was actually looking forward to this. It was embarrassing as fuck but he tried not to think about the date too much. He didn't want to panic and cancel.

Clyde insisted on pulling him to the side instead of entering the cafeteria during their lunch on Thursday.

"I think we need to have a talk before the big date."

Craig rolled his eyes.

"Only slutty girls let a guy get to second base on the first date."

"Christ."

"If he asks to be let in for a cup of coffee he's asking for you to put out. It's okay to tell him no but turn him down easy, okay?"

"_Clyde_," Craig warned.

"Now, if I were you, I'd wear your best pair of slacks and a button down. It'll impress him to see his date all dressed up just for him."

Craig growled.

"Let's see, let him pay for dinner but it'll be okay to pay for a few rounds at the arcade."

"How do you know where we're going?"

"Stan and I are both on the team, you know," Clyde grinned. "He had the hardest time focusing during practice today. Coach asked if his head was in the clouds and he said 'Yeah, on number nine' it was the most adorable thing."

Craig would always remember the moment as the time he did his first face palm.

"So _fucking_ gay."

Clyde laughed and clapped him consolingly on the shoulder. "He's really excited, Craig. Try not to be too much of a sour puss."

Each one of his friends decided it was up to them to give similar advice. Token told him it was the gentlemanly thing to hold open a door but not a chair and if Stan tried to hold out a chair for him that he had permission to sock him in the nose. Kevin recommended if he was going to kiss Stan to do it in the car but to unbuckle his seat belt first in case he needed to escape really quickly. Tweek merely shrieked over the awkwardness of who would pay the tip for the waiter and whether it was acceptable to beat Stan at the games or good to let him have the chance to show off in front of him. By the time the final bell rung Craig felt himself practically running out of the building to escape any further advice. He could have sworn Kenny McCormick was following him but thankfully Clyde intercepted and he made it to the sanctuary of his car.

Once at home he immediately went for a quick shower deciding to use just a little more of his body wash than usual and took his time drying his hair. He stared at his reflection and then sneered. He was feeling nervous. He shuffled into his bedroom and rummaged through his closet before deciding on his favorite pair of jeans and a navy blue vintage shirt with a picture of Bruce Lee on it. Once he changed he debated the merits of adding a belt then threw the one in his hand into his closet.

"The fuck am I _accessorizing_ for?" He scowled and pointedly avoided mirrors as he went about straightening up his room to distract himself until Stan showed up. He had just dumped the last of his dirty clothes into the hamper when the doorbell rang. He exhaled sharply, hoping to stop his nerves from getting the better of him, and made his way downstairs and through the living room to the front door.

"Hey," Stan smiled at him when he opened the door. He had the black coat he usually wore to church on over a t-shirt and dark jeans. It was obvious he had tried to look nice but thankfully he hadn't gone so far as to put product in his hair or something. Craig shook his head letting some of his hair fall into his eyes.

"Hey."

"Ready to go?"

Craig nodded and after grabbing his coat he followed Stan to Mrs. Marsh's car parked at the curb. Craig was very glad Stan didn't try to open the door for him or the date would have broken the record for being the shortest ever. The entire car ride they talked about their plans during the winter break. Craig had a lot of family coming into town and worked every weekend. Stan had family and work obligations, too, even though both were hard pressed to figure out who would want greasy tacos around Christmas. By the time they arrived it was late afternoon and it only took Stan ten minutes to find a parking garage. Craig took a quick bracing breath and exited the car.

They were _really_ doing this.

Stan pointed out a listing of restaurants and shopping in the area and the two reviewed it before agreeing on one that sounded like it would be pretty empty. Once there they got a table in a corner for themselves and quietly scanned their menus. Stan picked some weird veggie pasta Craig had never heard of and he chose roasted chicken. After the waiter walked off Craig found himself without a barrier to hold between himself and Stan, who wouldn't stop staring at him.

"Something on my face?"

"No," Stan smiled. "I just can't believe we're really doing this."

"It _is_ unreal," Craig agreed. Stan's smile faltered for a moment before he rested his elbows on the table top.

"You look nice, Craig."

Craig immediately felt the familiar rush he got when someone was begging for a pummeling but gripped the table cloth before he could act on it. "Seriously, Marsh. I have a dick; that won't work on me."

Stan laughed a little awkwardly. Craig studied him for a moment. He was holding himself a little stiffly and kept rubbing his hands together. Craig felt himself relax a little at the realization that even though Stan might have gone out with half the girls in their grade since the dawn of time he still had no idea how to date a _guy_. He watched as Stan's football playing shoulders rolled in an effort to alleviate tension before his icy blue eyes focused on him.

"Doesn't change the fact that you are attractive."

"Who says that," Craig mumbled under his breath. He dropped his chin so he was staring at the table and felt himself smile reluctantly.

"All right, tell me what your favorite movie is," Stan looked at him after the waiter returned with their drinks.

Craig looked up. "Of all time?"

Stan laughed. "Right, Mr. Movie Fanatic. Your favorite movie you can just enjoy."

"The original _Godzilla_."

Stan raised his eyebrows. "Really."

Craig smirked. "I _am_ a big fan of Japanese cinema, remember?"

"What movie do you think is just absolutely perfect?"

Craig thought about his answer. "Honestly, it is probably _Jaws_."

Stan smiled. "What movie has really impressed you?"

"Its really recent compared to most of what I own but definitely _Children of Men_."

Stan jerked his head to the side. "I don't think I've seen that one."

"We can watch it sometime if you want," Craig said before he was able to stop himself. He didn't want to promise things but he couldn't ignore the hopefulness that sprung up with the offer.

"Sure," Stan settled back against his chair. "Feeling more relaxed now?"

Craig blinked folding his arms over his knee. He really did. "Nice trick."

Stan laughed. "I just want you to have a good time."

Craig grunted. After their meal was placed before them and Craig had a few bites Stan began talking about the arcade he wanted to take Craig to. They talked about some projects Craig was working on in his photography class and Stan shared with Craig the tradition he and Kyle had for the holidays. Before he knew it their plates were cleared and the sun had set. Stan paid for their meal and they made their way to the arcade.

Craig hadn't known initially what to think when Stan suggested it for their date but after a few rounds of Street Fighter, Time Crisis 4, and an old first person shooter he thought it was great. Stan was very competitive but made it fun for Craig at the same time, too. Stan was still better at the shooter games but Craig had him licked at the racing ones. Finally his love of _Red Racer_ had paid off.

"We should probably head back soon," Stan sighed miserably as he checked his watch.

Craig snorted as he raised his gun controller completely missing a zombie practically right in front of him. "You're only saying that because you're losing."

"Right," Stan laughed. Craig hoped it wasn't obvious that his body temperature was rising as Stan leaned in closer and nearly whispered in his ear. "It's almost ten thirty, dude."

Craig turned with an eyebrow raised when Stan stuck out his tongue in concentration and quickly cleared their level with a rapid series of shots. _Too close_, he thought as he caught a lingering scent of Stan's body wash and remnants of dinner. He felt a little ridiculous at how much Stan was affecting him. Craig sighed as the game pinged that their level had been cleared. "Cheater."

"I am serious," Stan said around his grin. "That is the actual time."

Craig nodded and gave another helpless shot with the controller before setting it down. _Home_, he thought nervously. Suddenly he wished they had merely met up some place instead of Stan driving them out. There was no way in hell he'd kiss Stan no matter how much everyone had goaded him about it during the day. He wasn't entirely sure he could keep from making an ass of himself if Stan wanted a hug or sweaty handshake or something.

"Ready to head back before the roads get bad?"

"They're always bad," Craig shoved his hands into the pockets of his coat. "But we might as well."

They huddled in their coats and quickly made their way back to the car. Inside, Stan cranked up the heater and waited for the car to warm up before buckling up and putting the vehicle in reverse. On the road back they talked about nothing in particular and Stan didn't feel the need to hide the glances and smiles he shot in Craig's direction. Craig could admit internally that he had actually enjoyed himself and kept twisting his lips into a smirk when he caught Stan looking at him. He didn't mean to come off as flirty or anything but Stan spied one of his smirks and smiled wider at him. The dork.

They both fell silent as the South Park city limits approached and Craig felt as though a heavy cloud had settled over them. He didn't know if it was because the date was ending or because the snow looked dirty as they drove through the suburban maze. Stan slowed to a stop and put the car in park just outside the Tucker house. Craig carefully unbuckled his seat belt feeling Stan watching him with a small smile. Craig blinked and breathed before facing him.

"You aren't thinking about walking me to the door, right?"

"Will it insult your masculinity?"

Craig couldn't hold back the smirk the question caused. "Most likely."

"Then no. We can part here," Stan swallowed but Craig could tell he was disappointed.

Craig nodded gratefully and put his hand on the door handle. He hesitated and turned back to Stan.

"Listen, I'm still not comfortable with us trying to…" his voice trailed off.

Stan smiled. "I get it."

"But this wasn't so bad."

Stan practically perked up like a goddamn dog.

"Good."

"Okay."

"Great."

"Yeah."

"Excellent."

Craig opened his mouth to say something about how _much_ he actually enjoyed the date but the words just wouldn't form. He opened the door and looked away from Stan. He wanted desperately to convey that this could happen again even though he wasn't up for seriously trying to kiss him yet. Then he had an idea. It was incredibly gay but he knew Stan would appreciate it and, well, that was kind of the whole idea, right?

He swallowed and rolled his eyes as his voice came out shakier than he thought. "I'll see you at school tomorrow."

"Yeah, I'd hope you wouldn't ditch." Stan laughed nervously and Craig licked his lips.

"Good night… Stan."

He paused for a moment and was about to stomp off before Stan could see how embarrassed he was when he responded with an obvious smile on his face judging by the tone of voice he was using.

"Good night, Craig."

Craig shook his shoulders slightly and climbed out of the car. Without looking back once he swiftly made his way to the porch and opened the door disappearing into his house. His parents were up and cast him slightly confused smiles as he walked through the living room to the stair case. He took the stairs two at a time and hastily retreated into his room. He shut the door leaning against it with his hand still on the knob while the other rose to rest his fingers against his lips.

He was totally fagging out for Stan Marsh.

* * *

><p>Stan leaned on the counter beside the register and sighed into an empty lobby. They were officially on winter break and between aunts and uncles in town, his job, and Craig's busy schedule he feared they wouldn't get to go on a second date until after the new year. He still hadn't told anyone in his family that he had been on a date with Craig and wasn't sure when or if he even should. He was fairly certain his mother, at least, would be understanding and he seriously doubted that Shelly would give two shits about it. It ultimately wouldn't bother him either way but he couldn't deny that he wanted to see more of Craig. The sooner they were off in college (hopefully the same place!) the better.<p>

Stan could just picture it. Maybe they wouldn't share living space because they had only been on one date at this point but they would be close enough to see each other nearly every day. He could have that gentle calmness Craig exuded during dinner after Stan finally got him to relax around him all the time. He could even have the clarity of his gaze when Craig's eyes focused on him and him alone. Maybe they would get over the bit of awkwardness that was keeping them from kissing and then they could do that all the time, too. He allowed himself to imagine what kissing Craig must be like; probably really slow and deliberate or hard and hungry. Either way, he wanted to tangle his fingers in that hair and to leave marks all along his neck and he knew it'd feel _just right_ to have their bodies flush against each other's…

"Ugh," he groaned and flattened himself on top of the counter, "I want to take him out again."

"Really now," the deep voice that infiltrated every single one of his dreams sounded above him.

Stan lifted his head high enough to look at Craig standing in front of him with that smirk Stan couldn't label as anything other than completely sexy at this point. He shifted awkwardly and smiled back.

"Yeah."

He watched with barely concealed joy at Craig's reaction. His eyes flitted to the side, mouth twisted awkwardly, and an index finger was raised to idly scratch at his jaw.

"Hm."

"Really soon, Craig," Stan stared unabashedly into those eyes. "Really. _Soon_."

Craig blinked and returned his gaze towards Stan. "Okay."

"Really?" Stan stood upright and felt like a kid allowed free run of a candy store.

"Christ, Stan," Craig seemed to glower but Stan slowly realized he was actually embarrassed. Stan Marsh had made Craig Tucker embarrassed. "Keep it down."

"Tonight," Stan blurted. "We have to go out tonight. Fuck the family thing."

Craig cleared his throat and avoided eye contact. "Sure."

"Great," Stan grinned. "What do you want to do?"

Craig rubbed the back of his neck as he thought. "I still have some Christmas shopping to do. Why don't we go to the mall together?"

Stan made a face. "I don't think shopping for presents constitutes as being a date, Craig."

"It does if its last minute and you buy me a burger, dickweed."

Stan laughed and leaned towards Craig. "All right, but I want to do something date-like."

Craig looked at him for a beat then sneered uncomfortably. "I'm not holding hands."

Stan had to work hard to suppress a laugh and instead said teasingly, "Not even a little?" He lifted his hand to spread his index finger and thumb apart a fraction while giving a fake pout. He meant it as a joke but felt like jumping over the counter and showing Craig his best tackle when his saw his reaction.

_Craig actually blushed_.

"Whatever," Craig blurted hastily. "I'll pick you up at home? You can at least shower off the smell of bean burritos. What time?"

"Craig," Stan grinned still ecstatic over seeing him blush.

"What time, Stan?" Craig's blush and voice deepened.

"Seven thirty."

"See you then," Craig immediately spun on his heel and exited the restaurant. Stan watched his form retreating and shamelessly did a short victory dance behind the counter until his manager told him to knock it off and take out the trash.

Once he got home he immediately threw off his uniform and scrubbed his skin down twice. He took a little extra time to work on his hair then padded into his bedroom to pick out an outfit. He settled for his favorite pair of jeans and soft black sweater over a white undershirt. He had just laced up his black boots when the doorbell rang. He double checked he had enough money in his wallet for dinner and a gift for his sister then grabbed his good coat. He nearly barreled down the stairs but came to a screeching halt when he reached the foyer.

"Well, well, well," Shelly was leaning against the opened door and grinning at him. He glanced at the door to see Craig looking very nice in his open coat, dark wash denim, and a snuggly looking blue sweater but also annoyed and awkward. "Going to the mall shopping with Craig Tucker all dressed up, huh? Something I'm missing here, squirt?"

Stan took a deep breath and opened his mouth to say something but only managed a high pitched squeak.

Shelly nodded thoughtfully as though they just had the most intellectually stimulating exchange and clapped him hard on the shoulder. "There's a sale at Penny's. I want a pair of knee high, high heeled, black boots. Size eight."

Stan made a face. "A department store? It'll be pandemonium, Shell."

"Lucky for you there's a knight in shinning armor to protect you from bodily harm," she smirked as she stood up from the door, "unless it's intentional on his part, of course…"

"Stan," Craig's fingers were twitching as his face grew increasingly red. "Car. Now. Go."

Stan made a placating gesture. "Size eight. Got it."

"Get them wrapped up nice and pretty," she sang as he shuffled past her and led Craig towards his car parked in the snowy drive.

Craig didn't utter a single word as they drove to the mall but Stan convinced himself it was more out of concentration due to the weather than because of Shelly. When they got to the mall Craig clicked his tongue in annoyance over the lack of parking but eventually they found a spot and made the long snowy trek towards the building. Once inside they kicked off the snow that had accumulated on their shoes before shuffling awkwardly to one side.

"I obviously have to go inside JCPenny," Stan sighed and shoved his hands inside his coat pockets. "Where do you need to go?"

Craig ran a hand through his hair and exhaled sharply. "I need to get something for Ruby, probably at Claire's, then something for my mom."

Stan nodded. "Should we eat first?"

Craig nodded without looking at him and headed off toward the food court. Stan bit his lip nervously and followed suit keeping an eye on Craig's stiffly held posture and purposeful walk. This wasn't going right at all. Stan wanted Craig to be relaxed, calm, and confident like he had during their first date. When he saw Craig like that it brought home the difference in their maturity levels but instead of making him feel insecure that made him proud that Craig was spending time with him. Watching Craig's stiff shoulders and slight head movements to check if Stan was following him made Stan frown in frustration. This was a stupid idea doing something together at the mall. At the very least they should have a quiet dinner.

"Craig, stop," Stan had to fight the urge to reach out and grab Craig's elbow. Craig stopped and cautiously turned towards him with an unreadable expression. "Look," Stan licked his lips and approached him, "let's go into the Chili's so we can have a table to ourselves with minimal interference, okay?"

"It'll be so loud," Craig grumbled.

Stan smiled encouragingly. "It'll be louder in the general food court area, right?" Craig paused then nodded slightly. Stan smiled again and this time when Craig set off he did so at Stan's pace and at his side. They were seated quickly considering the crowd and had a ridiculously quick waiter. Craig stayed silent except when he ordered his meal despite the several topics Stan tried to get him to respond to.

"I'm sorry, Craig," Stan sighed and looked out across the bustling restaurant.

"No," Craig spoke up softly. "I just got a little weirded out in front of your sister."

Stan's ears perked at this and turned back to face Craig.

"Did she say something?"

Craig looked uncomfortable and poked at his half eaten cheeseburger. "Not anything bad."

"Then what's up?"

Craig took a deep breath and glanced in Stan's direction before returning his gaze to his plate. "Our families."

Stan stayed silent for a moment and slouched back in his seat. "What about them?"

"We'll have to tell them about us, huh?" Craig picked up a fry and chewed it slowly.

Stan smiled. "There's something about us we'll have to tell?"

Craig lifted his head to look at Stan properly. "Eventually?"

"Yeah," Stan sat up straight again and smiled warmly at him, "at least I'd like to hope so."

Craig nodded stiffly.

"But it doesn't have to be right away. I'm surprised you're thinking that far," Stan reached across the table and stole one of Craig's fries. "Let's just take things slow, okay? There's no need to freak out or anything."

Craig made a face, thought for a moment, and then sighed. "Yeah."

"All right," Stan grinned at him. Craig seemed to have loosened up after that and they finished their dinner in considerably better spirits. After Stan paid they merged with the rest of the mall crowd and were able to get their shopping done with surprising quickness. Stan bought the boots his sister wanted and Craig picked up an assortment of jewelry for his sister and a gift card for the family to take photos for his mother.

"She'd like a family photo before I go off to college," Craig shrugged but Stan could see he was slightly embarrassed.

"That's really cool, Craig," Stan smiled at him. They headed towards a kiosk near their exit to get the gifts wrapped and headed home. Stan thanked Craig for the ride and apologized for his sister. Craig waved him off and thanked him for the meal.

"I'll call," Craig said quietly as Stan opened the car door. "Christmas night?"

Stan beamed at him feeling like his face was getting sore from all the smiling he did around Craig. "All right. I'll talk to you later."

As soon as Stan entered the house he sauntered over to the family tree and shoved Shelly's gift underneath it then headed up to his room. Unfortunately, Shelly intercepted him before he could shut the door and barged in uninvited.

"Hey," he shouted. She silenced him with a glare and shoved him into a seated position on his bed.

"Nice boyfriend."

Stan sputtered. "We're not… we're not there. Yet."

Shelly laughed and nodded her head. "I see." She sat down beside him. "When did this happen? I thought you were dating a bunch of girls."

Stan groaned and rubbed at his eyes. "It was… they weren't working out."

"Clearly," Shelly's voice was leaden with amusement. They fell into silence.

"He's the one with that temper, right?"

"Craig? Are we really going to talk about this?"

"Hey," she socked him on the arm. "I have a right to know who my baby brother is getting mixed up with."

"Right," he nodded and rubbed idly at his arm. "He's actually pretty chill."

"Hm," Shelly nodded. "He's not just using you to cop a feel or anything, right?"

"We haven't even kissed yet," Stan laughed feeling oddly proud about that fact.

"What? Why? Don't you like each other?"

Stan nodded and leaned back on his elbows looking at his closet door with a small smile on his face. "Craig is someone I want to take my time with. I respect him."

Shelly looked at him in surprise. "Wow, he's really done a number on you, huh?" Stan looked at her quizzically but she merely laughed and slapped his thigh. "Good. He's kinda hot."

"He's off limits," Stan raised his eyebrows as it dawned on him that she wasn't going to beat him up, call him a fag, or tattle to their parents.

"Yeah, yeah, I don't think I'd want your sloppy seconds anyway," she teased.

"Slut," he smiled.

"Bitch," she retorted as she stood up.

"Oh, I'm not the bitch," Stan's shoulders shook as he laughed.

She looked at him dead in the eye and crossed her arms with a smirk on her face. "Stan, you are so the bitch. But trust me, it isn't so bad."

"Oh God," Stan made a face at the mental image then shook his head. "Wait, why do you think I'm the bitch? I play ball and have twice the muscle mass Craig does!"

She laughed again. "Stan, you're too emotional. You feel things. A lot. He'd probably only have to say 'Please' and you'd prostrate yourself over the nearest available surface."

Stan blanched. "That's not… well…" Shelly looked at him with exaggerated patience. "Shit," he let himself fall on his back. "I would."

Shelly laughed and opened the door to his room. "Let me know if you need me to buy you some shit. Actually, maybe Santa will leave a special gift in your stocking."

Stan sat bolt upright in his bed and glared at her. "You wouldn't…"

She shrugged and sauntered out the door. "I didn't say in the stocking downstairs…" With that she closed the door leaving Stan feeling like he just got doused in icy water.

On Christmas morning the family gathered for their gift exchanging. Stan was pretty happy with his gifts and happier that his family enjoyed the ones he got them. It was the first time he bought presents for his family with money he earned himself, which made it all the better. Stan dreaded the moment when his mother told her children to look in their stockings but his was only full of candy and money from relatives unable to fly in. He breathed a sigh of relief and ignored Shelly's chuckling. Late that evening, after dinner, he was talking to Craig on the phone swapping awkward reports on their gift haul when he went upstairs to his room. He was in the middle of explaining something funny one of his uncles did while eating his ham when he spied something flesh colored on his bed. He told Craig to hold as he investigated.

It was a pair of nylons filled with lubricant, condoms, and other objects Stan didn't even want to know the purpose of despite the fact they were having an immediate effect on his anatomy.

"Stan?" Craig's voice growled through the phone and straight to his groin. "If you aren't going to talk to me I'm hanging up. This is girly enough as it is."

"No offense, Craig," Stan barely breathed as he prodded the stocking with a hesitant finger, "but Shelly's other gift to me doesn't necessitate you speaking for a few minutes."

"Fuck you," Craig spat. "Is it really so bad?"

Stan nearly choked at the new implications of Craig's swear. "Oh, it's just… she gave me some stuff two consenting adults might require to make certain activities… _smoother_, I guess?"

Craig seemed to have figured it out and swore softly before hanging up. Stan didn't blame him and set the phone down on the night stand. He was equal parts horrified and fascinated but pretty sure he'd never get to use any of it.

* * *

><p><strong>AN**: All right, I said the next update would be longer and it would appear that I lied. So call me a dirty liar and… that's fine. Yes, yes. Hooray for pervy siblings! And hooray for Craig cooperating with me so I could give you an update before the holiday!

I'm seriously very happy with all of the reviews you guys have been giving as well as the alerts and favorites. I really can't convey properly how awed I am by it. I spent a lot of time on my days off working on this and the next two chapters so that I could give you something in time for Thanksgiving. As a sign of thanks, naturally, so thanks you guys!

The next chapter is massively long compared to the others. The story is also almost over. I'm hoping to wrap it up in chapter seven but if it trickles over into eight then so be it but I'd really like to end it with seven. I'd also like to take this time to warn you that the next two chapters are definitely warranting the M rating. I know the language has been kinda… well, South Park, but we really get deeper into it later on. I hope that doesn't spoil anything. Oh well. Enjoy the gobble fest and chapter!


	6. Keen on Boys

For Gentlemen Only

Chapter Six: Keen on Boys

Craig's birthday! Stan has wishes of his own but maybe Craig's are the same. The Friends find out what's been going on and surprise! Valentine's Day is here~

**A/N:** Real quick... remember that this thing _is_ rated M. Kay, enjoy...

* * *

><p>To say Stan felt frustrated would have been the understatement of the year. This was funny because the new year started only a week ago. He seriously wanted to engage in some sort of activity that involved his tongue in Craig's mouth and lots of heavy petting. There were only two things stopping him from shoving him against a wall and going at it. The first was that even though Stan was more physically imposing than Craig the latter had a wicked temper that when unleashed made anyone at the receiving end of his punches cry for their mother. He did <em>not<em> want Craig to punch him.

The second, and this sounded way totally gay, was that Stan actually respected Craig's space. Worse than getting punched in the face would be making Craig feel uncomfortable in any way. Well, he wanted Craig to feel uncomfortable in a sexy way but it wasn't the same kind of thing that would happen should Stan try to force his advances on him. What he needed was an opportunity. He needed to make some sort of gesture to show Craig he respected him but make it incredibly thoughtful because if Stan was feeling extremely gay over their dates then surely he could get Craig to feel something like it, too. He really needed some inspiration.

Surprisingly, it came in the form of text message via Clyde Donovan.

_FYI, even though you're totally gay for my best friend I thought I'd let you know I'll kick your ass if you make him upset in any way. Nothing personal_, Stan read from his phone.

_That makes me feel a whole lot better_, he sent back.

_Don't be dumb, Marsh. I'm telling you that so you won't do it_, Clyde replied.

_I don't intend to but understand that this is coming out of nowhere, Clyde._ Stan shook his head in confusion. Why was Clyde doing this through text message when he was sitting at the other end of the cafeteria?

_Craig really does like you._ Stan blinked and looked up at their table for confirmation. Clyde gave him a meaningful look and Stan redirected his attention to Craig. Craig looked startled when their eyes met and licked his lips as he glanced elsewhere. Since when did Craig start watching him and why hadn't he noticed?

_All right, so in what way do you see me upsetting him?_ Stan tapped his foot nervously, hoping Clyde could help him reach a solution to both their problems.

_His birthday is coming up_, Clyde reminded him. Stan felt a slow smile spread across his face. Clyde had just answered his prayers.

_Don't fuck it up, Marsh_, Clyde sent him. Stan watched as he tucked away his phone and starting distracting Craig with excited hand gestures. Stan turned around and began making his plan.

The easiest part was deciding on a gift. The bad news was that it was expensive but he was pretty sure Craig would be moved by it and that would make it worth the investment. He took a deep breath and wondered how he would give it to Craig. Maybe he could invite him over? No, if he was going to try to get Craig to kiss him it ought to be some place where Craig felt comfortable. That only left Craig's own home. Stan wracked his brain trying to think of a way to get himself invited over.

Fortunately, he didn't have to.

"Hey," Craig walked up to him as their first class let out. Stan smiled at him looking around nervously. His eyes softened allowing himself the rarity of telling himself how good looking he found Craig.

"Hi," Stan breathed.

Craig licked his lips and finally met his eyes. "My mom is making me have a party for the first time since seventh grade. For my birthday."

"Oh?" Stan perked up.

"Yeah, it'll just be the family and some friends," he scratched the back of his head. Stan looked longingly at his hands. "I wanted to know if you'd like to come."

"You want me at your party?" Stan smiled.

"We're kind of a thing, right? Of course I do," Craig's face began turning pink and Stan nearly whimpered watching him lick his lips again.

"A thing," Stan repeated. "I'll be there. When is it?"

"Saturday," Craig looked at him. "Around noon."

"Sounds good."

Craig gave him a small smile and jerked his head towards the door. Stan hoisted his backpack on one shoulder and the two headed off to their next class. Craig seemed in a better mood after that making Stan grin the whole rest of the day. Craig said they were a thing and while it wasn't exactly defining something concrete it was definitely the progress Stan desperately wanted. It meant Craig was thinking about him, about _them_, and that made Stan willing to go through a million more of their awkward dates.

When Saturday finally arrived Stan felt jittery as he went through the motions of getting ready. He spent extra time brushing his teeth and fixing his hair. He picked out a long sleeved v-neck shirt that always gained him compliments and a pair of jeans. He put on his coat and then with Craig's present tucked under his arm he made his way out the door.

There were quite a few cars out in front of the Tucker house. Stan recognized Clyde's shitty little Prius he got for Christmas and Token's new model BMW. The others weren't familiar and Stan parked his mother's car across the street. Craig's younger sister answered the door when he knocked and grinned cheekily at him.

"At last, here comes Craig's boyfriend," she sang.

Stan felt the color drain from his face. "Uh," was all he could say. _Boyfriend?_ It was simultaneously the most nauseating and awesome thing he ever heard.

"Come on in, he's waiting for you," she stepped to the side and Stan hesitantly entered. He could hear Craig's dad laughing and Kevin and Token having some sort of mock argument.

"Stan," Craig's mother beamed and walked towards him giving him a hug. _Holy shit_, his mind screamed and smiled as he awkwardly half hugged her in return. "You made it!"

"Yeah, I hope I'm not late?"

She shook her head and swept an arm towards the living room. "Come on in, we have snacks and some video game for everyone to play."

"Video game?"

She nodded and smiled a little sadly. "Craig's grown up now and wouldn't let me do any of the usual party games."

"Ah, pin the tail and hitting a piñata, right?"

She lightly shoved his shoulder and smiled. "See, you get it. It might a bit dated but the least he can do is indulge his mother a little."

Stan smiled at her and finally found Craig standing in the middle of the party surrounded by people in his life and looking desperately like he wanted to escape.

"He is. He hates being the center of attention."

She tapped a finger against her chin, eyes twinkling knowingly. "Indeed he does."

Craig gave a strained smile to an older lady patting his hand and turned to look for a possible escape when he finally saw Stan. Stan grinned and waved noticing that Craig's smile became less strained. He extracted himself from the lady and made his way towards Stan.

"Hey."

Stan laughed and nodded in return.

"Well, I'll just be off then," Craig's mother bumped her hip against her son's as she headed off to mingle. "Have fun," she winked at Stan.

"Your mother is enchanting as always."

Craig sighed and crossed his arms uncomfortably. "I hope this ends soon. I just want to curl up in bed and never leave."

Stan wanted to tease him a little and ask for an invitation to join him but held up the package under his arm instead. "Then you won't get to see what this is."

Craig raised an amused eyebrow and jerked his chin in the direction behind him. "Let's go to the stairs." Stan followed Craig as they made their way through the living room towards the staircase tucked around the corner behind it. Clyde met his eyes and gave him a meaningful look that Stan waved off.

Once they were around the corner Craig grabbed the stair rail and leaned on it as he turned himself around to sit a few steps from the bottom. He sighed and smiled softly at Stan. "I hate this."

"Well," Stan scratched his ear with one hand and handing over the gift with the other, "I figured that you would like _this_."

Craig raised an amused eyebrow and turned over the gift. It was rather heavy and Craig chuckled over the poor wrapping job. Stan laughed with him feeling incredibly nervous and hoping no one else at the party was watching them.

"Did this yourself?"

"Just open it," Stan drummed his fingers over his grin. Craig blinked slowly. Stan watched as his pale face began to turn pink and tore at the wrapping paper. Once he had pulled it back he watched as Craig's mouth opened in surprise. Stan's eyes shone as Craig freed the rest of the paper and let it fall unceremoniously at his feet.

"_Stan_," Craig breathed, bony fingers running over the cover of the book. Stan stilled his fingers and felt his grin widen over Craig's reaction. He had ordered it online and was almost afraid it wouldn't show up in time. "Do you know how expensive this book is?"

"Do you like it?"

Craig looked up at him with an expression of uncertainty and barely concealed joy. _Barely concealed joy for_ Craig, Stan thought. "Are you sure I can have this?"

Stan shrugged and leaned against the wall in an effort to appear far more casual than he felt. "I got it just for you, asshole. Of course you can have it."

Craig looked back down at the cover and slid his hands down the sides of the book obviously eager to open it. Stan smiled and moved away from the wall to sit on the step next to Craig. He bumped their knees together and leaned in to place a hand on the cover.

"Why don't you open it?"

Craig looked at him then turned back to the book as Stan flipped open the cover. The inside had a wonderfully reprinted picture of Akira Kurosawa directing one of his many films. It was a thick coffee table book filled with photographs, interviews, and anecdotes of the career of one of Craig's favorite directors. Stan ran a hand across it resting his fingers lightly on the topmost corner of the back cover while Craig began to flip through pages.

"Is it okay?" Craig hadn't said a word in a while. He just kept shooting confused glances in his direction and licking his lips incessantly.

"Yeah," Craig said quietly and abruptly closed the book. He fiddled with the edges right hand brushing Stan's. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it," Stan smiled at him. They continued to look at each other until Stan dropped his hand moving both of his hands to push himself off of the step.

He jumped in surprise as Craig's arm shot out in front of him hand gripping Stan's arm with sudden force. Stan turned to give Craig a questioning look. Craig was clutching the book to his chest and had his brows furrowed as he stared at him.

"Just give me a moment," Craig blinked and looked down. Stan relaxed and waited while Craig steadied his breathing. He finally looked up at him again and Stan only had a split second to process that something was about to happen when Craig leaned in and crushed their lips together. Stan's eyes flew open as he stilled under Craig's touch and heard nothing but the rush of blood in his ears as his brain processed what was going on.

Craig was kissing him of his own volition.

* * *

><p>For the briefest of moments Craig reveled in his victory of finally conquering his fear. When he pulled away and looked at Stan he was amazed that he had caused his face to turn from his usual sporty tanned color to a very bright red. He almost allowed himself a smug grin but when their eyes met and saw the astonishment in Stan's he felt like the biggest fool in the world. That had been a terrible kiss! There was no victory to be claimed in that.<p>

He watched as Stan's color began to return to normal and work his jaw to say something to Craig, anything, _don't you dare speak a word to me you stupid fucker!_

Craig wanted desperately to have the ability to turn invisible so he could run away. A corner of Stan's gift was digging into his chest and he vaguely registered he still had Stan's arm in a vice grip. One of his knees had somehow worked its way between Stan's legs and Stan was bracing himself with his free hand against the wall behind him and _oh God_ that had been such an awkward kiss.

"Come on boys," he heard his mother call cheerfully and Craig's lungs sucked in a horribly loud breath. "Its time for cake!"

He turned anxiously back to Stan who had finally snapped out of it and twitched his lips up in a semi-grin.

"You are so unfair," Stan whispered, eyes darkening with an amused promise of revenge. "I have to wait to address that."

Craig groaned and wanted to scream at Stan but Clyde appeared and huffed at him.

"Stop fagging out over here so we can cut the damn cake."

"_Jesus Christ_," Craig hissed and released his hold on Stan's arm. He felt like a badly assembled robot as he got up from the step and followed Clyde into the kitchen. Thankfully his mother heeded his advice to nix those crappy cone shaped birthday hats but she got to put in eighteen candles on his cake. He barely paid attention as she directed him excitedly into his seat, lit the candles, and led the party in the birthday song. When it was time for him to make a wish, his eyes flitted over to where Stan was standing eyes soft and smile playing on his lips. The lips Craig just kissed.

_I wish that it doesn't take too long to try it again_, he thought feeling incredibly juvenile. He gently blew out the candles and everyone cheered before dividing the cake. His mother slid him his piece and after shuffling around plates for the others they somehow knew to leave the seat next to him open for Stan. His mother steered him into the seat and set a plate in front of him.

"Here you go, Stan," she smiled at her son and rested a hand on Stan's shoulder. "Have fun."

Craig dropped his fork and put his head in his hands as she walked away. At least they didn't have to have the 'I'm gay and that's okay' talk. He heard Stan laughing under his breath beside him.

"Please don't say anything," Craig felt his face grow hot.

"I wasn't going to," Stan replied calmly and took a bite of cake. "At least not with your guests present."

Craig groaned. "That was terrible."

Stan simply looked at him.

"It's my fault," he whispered and poked at some icing with his fork. "I have no experience whatsoever."

Stan laughed at this and immediately cut it off when Craig glared at him.

"Let's just get through the rest of your party and then we'll talk about it. Let your mom have her moment and enjoy it as best you can, okay?" Craig bit his lip. "I'm not going anywhere until we sort it all out. Promise."

Craig nodded feeling oddly reassured and focused on finishing his piece of cake. His mother flitted back over asking if she should dig out the ice cream. Craig gave an emphatic no but Clyde declared _uh_, _hell yes_. Once everyone had been fed they migrated into the living room where Craig felt incredibly awkward with all eyes on him as he struggled with wrapping paper and opening gifts. He actually got some really cool stuff, considering, and thanked everyone properly.

Token was the first to challenge him to a few rounds on the Wii relocated from Craig's room into the living room. Token was a good choice because he can get super competitive and Craig quickly found himself pushing the previous awkwardness from his mind. He even smirked a few times as Kevin sneezed giving Craig the chance to beat his character in the game. When it was Stan's turn he smiled before skillfully avenging Kevin. Everyone had a good laugh at his expense that time causing him to twist his mouth to the side ruefully and pass off his flushed skin as exertion.

Eventually, it started getting late and his friends all headed off together. His grandmother, aunt and uncle stayed for a short while before Grandma started stroking Craig's forehead crying about how much he looked like his grandfather. It was a bit of a downer as everyone exchanged glances conveying that the old lady wouldn't be around for much longer. Craig almost made his mother cry when he had a little bit of a freak out and gave Grandma an extra long hug as she huddled by the door. His mother shoed him and Stan away with a wink and they slowly retreated into his room. Once behind the closed door Stan let out a sigh.

"That was a lot of fun."

"If by fun you mean completely humiliating, then yes. Fun."

Stan laughed, bit his lip thoughtfully as he looked at Craig then sat down on the floor in the space between his bed and television set. He pat the carpet in front of him, eyes shining in amusement and looked at him again. Craig felt his stomach twist up and tugged at the hem on his sleeves as he slowly made his way to the space in front of Stan. They both sat cross legged, knees barely touching, and faced each other. Stan held up his hands and let out a shaky breath.

"We need to get over this touching issue. Go ahead, whenever you're ready."

Craig nodded and slowly reached out his hands, spreading his fingers in an exact mirror of Stan's. Stan was the one to press his palms against Craig's. It was the dumbest of contact but the feeling of Stan's hands against his sent electric sparks from the tips of his fingers all the way through his arms. He let out a breath and looked at their hands.

"What the fuck, how are mine smaller than yours?" Craig frowned in disappointment.

Stan looked at them and laughed softly. "Because I play sports?"

"You have freakishly large hands. You shouldn't have ones this size."

He watched as Stan slid his fingers to bend them through the spaces left by his. Craig wondered at the texture of Stan's skin. Between old calluses his skin was alternately dry and soft. Craig felt his lips part and slouched slightly; he didn't even flinch as Stan traced lazy circles on the back of Craig's hands with his thumbs. Craig felt like his skin was on fire under the gesture.

"Craig," Stan said softly. "I know this has all been awkward but wouldn't you say it is time to move on from dating?"

Craig narrowed his eyes. "Move on? Like what?" He looked at their joined hands and frowned. "You mean…"

Stan nodded once. "Be my boyfriend."

Craig flinched despite Stan's tightening grip on his hands. "Have we even been dating long enough for that?"

Stan laughed apologetically. "I have no idea."

Craig tensed and looked down. He felt completely incompetent in the face of Stan's experience with all this. He felt Stan slowly release his hands causing Craig to jerk his head back up.

"Unless, you don't want to. I'll understand."

Craig reached out and sighed. "I don't."

Stan looked down and Craig groaned in frustration. "I meant that I don't _understand_."

"What do you mean?"

Craig slouched even further. "I don't get how you know any of this."

Stan looked thoughtful for a moment and took both of Craig's hands. "I just feel that it's right."

Craig stared at him and took a shaky breath. "You know a lot more how all of this works than I do," his voice was heavy with resentment.

"Look," Stan threaded their fingers together again. "I might have dated more than you and it feels like we're behind a bit. But Craig, I don't really get the mechanics of all this."

Craig laughed bitterly. "Is it really so different?"

"Your resistance kind of shows that it is," Stan smiled at him again. Craig nodded slowly. "I have no idea how to make a pass at you and to be honest I don't think it has anything to do with the fact you're also a guy."

This time Craig laughed while Stan watched him with an amused grin. At least the fucker was being honest with him.

"Here, I'll try to convince you we can do this. Just, don't hit me," Stan looked around nervously. "Okay?"

Craig grimaced reflexively before giving a small nod. Stan took a deep breath and released Craig's hands again. Craig dubiously looked on as Stan inched closer resting one of his knees on top of Craig's. He felt himself about to strike out when Stan distracted him by settling his hand around his ear. Stan slowly put his fingers in Craig's hair causing him to melt under Stan's touch. He felt Stan gently pull him towards him as he came closer until their noses were nearly touching. Craig's eyes closed and before he could finish taking in a breath their lips had connected.

The only thing he could equate it to was the chill you got when taking a big bite out of an ice cream in the middle of winter under a dare. It was so cold against your lips and on your tongue that you had to do a sort of dance to keep the intensity of the cold from getting to your brain and causing it to freeze. It was a shock but because you had huddled yourself in so much warmth the ice cream begins to melt and suddenly the laws of physics seem to be defied because you can _taste_ the ice cream even though it is freezing all around you. How could you possibly taste anything ever again when your nose was frozen and lips chapped from started then abandoned attempts at keeping them moist?

Stan tasted like salty birthday cake.

_Wait_, Craig stilled a little, _when did he get his tongue in my mouth?_ He felt Stan's fingers thread deeper into his hair and their tongues doing the most phenomenal dance. While he had been off thinking about metaphors and shit Stan had totally taken over the kiss. Craig wasn't sure how to respond but it felt like a good idea to put his hands someplace. He blindly reached out just as Stan twisted his body so that he had Craig pinned between himself and the bed. Stan's hands had kept their kiss from breaking and once Craig felt like he wasn't about to fall over he wrapped his arms under Stan's arms and around his shoulders.

Stan made some sort of noise Craig could actually _feel_ and his hands gripped Stan's shoulders tighter. This seemed to signal encouragement to Stan and Craig felt his hands sliding from his hair over his shoulders and around the middle of his back. Craig could have sworn he felt Stan's heart hammering away in his chest now that they were pushed against each other like they were. Now that Stan's hands weren't holding his head in one position Craig figured he could apply a little pressure of his own and deepened the kiss himself. Stan breathed sharply against his cheek and slowly pulled his head back. Craig didn't even bother with masking his shortness of breath as he tried to focus his vision on his fingers twisted in the fabric of the back of Stan's shirt.

"_Craig_," Stan breathed and rested their foreheads together. Craig could admit that hearing his name said like that a total turn on. "Now you see that we can do this?"

Craig huffed out a breath and forced his eyes wide open briefly to gather his thoughts. That had been infinitely better than his stair slip up. For once, he found himself glad for Stan and his stupid girl experiences otherwise they'd still have many days, weeks, or even months to get to a kiss like that. He registered on a small scale that he was horribly behind in one aspect of their fucked up relationship but he would not relinquish his claim on the other.

"I might need some more convincing," he smirked and roughly gripped Stan towards him by the back of the neck.

* * *

><p>"You are such a fucking cat," Stan laughed. Craig merely grunted. They were sprawled out on Stan's bedroom floor filling out their forms for college scholarships, financial aid, and researching housing in Denver. Stan chewed on his pen cap and watched Craig. He had taken up the habit of leaving his curtains open the whole day so that by the time he and Craig got to his house after school the carpet was nice and warm. Craig would automatically migrate to the section of the floor where the sun filtered in and lay on his stomach. If Stan was able to get close enough to run his hands through Craig's hair odds were pretty good Craig would be out like a light within minutes.<p>

Stan had to admit that Craig's hair was the best thing he had ever touched in his short life. It was incredibly silky and not covered in weird feeling product. He used his elbows to slowly pull himself closer to Craig so he could fiddle with his hair. As soon as he ran his fingers from the top of Craig's head to the back Craig began to relax and let out a soft moan. Stan bit his lip and abandoned their applications in favor of pleasing his boyfriend.

It was a little weird to think of Craig Tucker as his boyfriend but he could not keep from grinning like mad whenever he did. They didn't really have time to go on proper dates or anything but Craig had let Stan woo him in other ways. When either didn't have obligations to work, family or friends they spent time together getting used to the feel of each other's hands, arms, heads, and shoulders. And they made out. Stan was worried that it would take forever to get Craig to let him kiss him like they had on his birthday. It had been really nice and took Stan quite a bit of time in the bathroom before he could get himself to go to bed. But he was pleasantly surprised when the next day Craig had grabbed him right after church by his neck tie and led him into the woods behind the parking lot. It had been done so forcefully that Stan barely had time to register what was going on until he had been backed into a tree with Craig hungrily invading his mouth. Best fucking Sunday. Ever.

Craig had been so hesitant to initiate contact but man was he a fast learner. He was surprisingly strong for someone with his build and Stan didn't feel the least bit emasculated when Craig would lean him back far enough to put one of his bony legs between Stan's. The frustrating part was that Craig was quickly picking up moves while Stan just let his brain fizzle and focused on all of the feel good. The next couple of weeks had been so fucking amazing. When both of their shifts were over on Friday night, Craig brought Stan back to his house under the pretense of showing him his new hi-res Nikon he bought with his birthday money. Stan had been gullible enough to buy it and didn't catch on until they were holed up in the Tuckers' garage— it was too late. Craig had pinned Stan against Mr. Tucker's repurposed tool bench and when he got Stan's mouth to open as far as he thought was possible Craig rolled their hips together _just so_ using the edge of the bench for leverage.

"_Fuck_, Craig," Stan broke the kiss instantaneously and hissed between his teeth tilting his head back while Craig took advantage of his exposed neck. Craig then slid his hands up the back of Stan's shirt and something nearly broke in Stan's brain at the feel of those hands on his bare skin. Unfortunately, someone within the house had decided it was a good time to drop what sounded like a bowling ball in the kitchen and Craig immediately stepped away. Stan would admit in front of the Supreme Court if he had to that he shamelessly whimpered at the break in contact.

Stan wanted to get even. He watched as Craig's eyes fluttered close and idly twirled pieces of Craig's hair around his fingers while his plan formed. No one would be home for hours and Stan would have to be the biggest idiot in the history of getting off if he didn't take advantage of it. He silently shoved their papers out of the way and gently rolled Craig onto his back. Craig grunted in response but just as Stan figured he didn't open his eyes. Stan planted one elbow next to Craig's head and shifted himself to lay on his side right next to him. He frowned as the carpet scratched his skin where his shirt had ridden up then focused on his target.

One of them was going to get their hands down the other's pants if it was the last thing Stan did.

He wiped at his face and scooted closer so their bodies were touching on the one side. Craig cracked open an eye warily and Stan feigned innocence by drumming his fingers lightly on Craig's chest and looking around. After a few moments he felt Craig wriggle his back deeper into the carpet and let out a contented sigh. Glancing back at his face he saw that Craig's eye was closed again and judging from the way his eyeballs seemed to dart back and forth he was actually drifting off to sleep. Stan leaned over and began pressing light kisses to Craig's jaw. He felt Craig's chest rise against his own as he took a deep breath but Stan didn't abandon his task. Craig wrapped an arm around Stan's back and pulled him closer the nearer to Craig's lips he got. Just before he went in for the kill Stan looked up and smirked at Craig's half lidded gaze.

Craig managed to get out a "What are you planning to do?" before Stan attacked. It seemed Craig wasn't going to stop him as he quickly worked Craig's mouth open to gain further access. Craig threw his other arm over Stan's back both hands fisting his shirt right around the shoulder blades. It was feeling pretty good to Stan so he threw caution to the wind and his leg over Craig's body to straddle him. Craig inhaled sharply pulling their kisses back to hungry open mouthed ones as Stan shimmied around to find the right spot he was looking for. Once there he grinned into another kiss and _moved_ eliciting the most wonderful sound from Craig. It wasn't just that either, Stan had somehow gotten Craig to move the right way in return.

"_Jesus fucking_ _Christ_, Stan," Craig hissed and was most decidedly a cat with the way he arched his back off the floor, "what _the fuck_ was that?"

"No idea," Stan replied in a breathless stupor. He desperately wanted to devolve into a mindless feel good machine but forced himself to focus on his goal.

"Do it again," Craig's eyes were a stormy gray and totally dilated. Stan didn't bother with a distracting kiss as he moved against Craig again. He watched as Craig's head fell back closing his eyes in the process and pulling his lips back to breathe through his teeth again. Watching Craig's reactions was hotter than the friction between their bodies. He moved again only this time a lot slower and with more pressure.

"_Stan_," Craig gripped his shoulders tighter and arched again with a little hip rotation added in response causing Stan to see little black dots. He opened his eyes darting them around before focusing on Stan's. "Your _fucking shirt_ is in the way."

"How the hell is it in the way," Stan barely made out as he lifted his torso just enough for the two of them to extract his shirt from his body. He dipped down for another open mouthed kiss and moved against Craig again feeling both of their hard ons through their jeans. This time Craig's fingers dug deep and dragged against the skin on Stan's back. Stan wasn't much of a masochist but there was delicious pain shooting down his back that made his hair stand on end. "_Fuck that_."

Stan shoved himself off the floor and reached down to pull Craig to his feet. Craig grabbed at Stan's waist for balance but it wasn't necessary as Stan shoved him backwards on his bed. Craig looked mildly apprehensive as Stan habitually kicked off his shoes before tackling Craig into the mattress. Their kisses were sloppier and movements more erratic and Stan was sure they could be heard out into the hallway. While Craig's hands kept moving lower on Stan's back he could tell that he was going to have to do something about their cocks or else it would be an awkward few minutes until their erections went away should either one say to back off.

He distracted Craig with more kisses and slid his hands down his shirtfront then began unbuttoning his jeans. Craig's response was to inhale sharply but didn't make any moves to show Stan he was pushing his boundaries. Bolstered by the go ahead he tugged Craig's opened jeans down his skinny hips and slipped his hands inside his boxers. Craig arched his back again at the contact and gripped Stan's shoulders with a moan as Stan began to slowly stroke Craig. He pulled his head back enough so he could watch Craig's expressions as he picked up a steady rhythm.

"Fucking perv," Craig hissed and titled his head back again as Stan gave an experimental run of his thumb over the head of Craig's cock. "Don't watch."

Stan chuckled and worked on marking Craig's neck while paying attention to the way Craig's body responded to his touch. He alternated how many fingers he used, tested different speeds, and how to encourage Craig's own hip movements to increase the good feeling. And Craig was feeling good. Stan grinned on Craig's neck ecstatic that _he_ was making Craig move like that, _he_ was making Craig grab at him more and more, and it was all _his fault _for the different sounds Craig uttered as well. He didn't know if Craig would let him get away with it but he suddenly had the biggest desire to watch him come.

"_Stan_," Craig warned breathlessly and he pulled his head away from Craig's neck just in time to see it. He didn't know what to expect but it definitely made his own arousal painfully throb from neglect. Craig lay still aside from his chest heaving while Stan pulled his hand from his pants. He shrugged over the mess covering his hand and turned back to Craig's neck, peppering it with light kisses. He lost himself in the feel of Craig's pulse beneath his lips and actually jumped when he felt Craig's hand grip his shoulder and push at him. Stan allowed himself to be shoved onto his back and blinked in surprise as Craig pinned down both of his arms and straddled his lap. Stan's breath caught when he noted that Craig's jeans were still undone and sliding lower.

"I haven't forgotten you," Craig's voice sounded lower than usual making Stan shiver a little. Craig smirked and leaned over Stan far enough to grind down on his groin.

Stan breathed in sharply. "Christ, Craig. Either help a guy out here or let me take care of it myself."

Craig had the nerve to chuckle at him. "If I let you can I watch?"

Stan almost wished Craig would act prudish again. Almost. "_Seriously_."

Craig looked at him thoughtfully, hair falling into his eyes as he made his decision, and smirked. "I'll help you out. If…" The way he bit his lower lip after letting the 'f' sound hang between them was driving Stan crazy. When the fuck did Craig become such a sexy tease?

"Fucking _hell_. Anything you want, Craig."

"Warn me when you're close," Craig said seriously. Stan blinked at him through his heavy breathing.

"What?" Stan lifted his head a little only to have Craig shove it back down. He felt Craig crawl backwards off of his lap and release his hold on Stan's arms. Craig had to shove his head back down again as he lightly traced Stan's muscles, slowly drifting down, down, down…

"_Oh my God_," Stan whispered wide eyed when he felt his jeans being undone.

"Stay still," Craig warned before kissing the skin just above the waistband of Stan's boxers exposed from his opened jeans. Stan blinked at the ceiling unbelievingly. Surely this was another awesome dream and any minute now he'd wake up. He felt Craig pull both his jeans and underwear down and suppressed a noise when he felt his dick was exposed to the room. He didn't know what to expect… well that was a lie. He knew what he _wanted_ Craig to do but was still fairly certain that this was all a dream and holy shit Craig had him by the hips now and _holy shit_ that was definitely his mouth.

Stan had only had two blow jobs before and at first he was too freaked out over the fact Craig was willing to do this that he wasn't actually paying attention to how it all started. It must not have been too well because he definitely started paying attention when Craig hummed thoughtfully and swirled his tongue around while slowly bobbing his head up and down. He felt his hips wanting to twitch before his brain could try to rein them in but Craig had a pretty strong grip on him and continued. Stan was glad he had already worked himself up before Craig even began. He couldn't get his brain to stop wigging out over the fact Craig took this kind of initiative.

"_Craig_," he breathed and gasped as Craig pulled back allowing him to come in the air between them. He sighed loudly and felt Craig tug his pants the rest of the way down and looked up to see him drop them on the floor. Craig turned back and smirked at him.

"That wasn't as bad as I thought though you sure didn't last long."

Stan wasn't even offended. "What possessed you to try that?"

Craig shrugged and reached behind him to pull his shirt off over his head and tossed it in the general direction of Stan's pants. "You looked pretty close so I figured why not?"

Stan propped himself up on his elbows, watching Craig shimmy out of his jeans and crawl towards him in nothing but his boxers. Stan reluctantly pulled his own up and groaned when Craig tugged pointedly at his covers. Stan blinked at him earning a roll of Craig's eyes in response.

"Go hose yourself off or something. You're covered in our DNA and you damn well better cuddle me after I put your dick in my mouth."

Stan rolled off of the bed and turned to look as Craig freed his covers and sprawled out under them before heading into the bathroom for a very quick clean up. He returned to find Craig waiting for him with the blankets drawn back and Stan slipped inside thankful for the warmth and settled in. Craig wasted no time in nuzzling up to him and Stan wasn't about to push him away. Craig drew the blankets around them tighter and curled up against his side throwing an arm across his chest. Stan wrapped both of his arms around Craig and burrowed further into their nest of warm bed sheets and inhaled the scent of Craig's hair.

"What about our college applications," Stan mumbled as he felt his eyes growing heavy.

"Fuck it," Craig yawned and moments later let out a colossal snore against Stan's chest. Stan grinned sleepily and drifted off.

* * *

><p>"Please?"<p>

"No," Craig crossed his arms and glowered at Stan.

"Not even one?"

Craig narrowed his eyes further at the form in front of him. Stan was on his knees in Craig's bedroom right in front of Craig seated on his computer chair. Stan was looking at him with huge, blue eyes and clasped hands in front of him complete with a fucking wobbling bottom lip. Said lip was a little red still from their after school make out session which Craig was still pissed about its premature ending. Stan had been running his stupidly awesome huge hands through his hair not understanding how much control he really had over Craig when he did that. It was all Craig could do to hold on to his larger shoulders and try not to make a whimpering mess of himself. Then Stan pulled back just enough to say those _three fucking words_ that chilled Craig from the top of his head to the ends of his toes.

"Be my Valentine."

The fuck had he been thinking? Craig had growled and shoved him away hoping to use the element of surprise to bolt from the bedroom but of course Stanley Marsh managed to intercept and tackled him. Craig tried to keep his face buried in the carpeted floor while Stan barraged him with the five W's. Then the fucker had to make things worse by saying he wanted to buy Craig one of those fucking carnations through the student council. Craig nearly went catatonic at the mental image. Stan would both make it super embarrassing and pick a class they shared or super super embarrassing and pick one they didn't.

He could just picture Broflovski or Testaburger bursting through their English class door with a huge box of powerfully smelling carnations in an array of colors with stupid little construction paper hearts tied with white curling ribbon. One by one they'd go through the carnations, handing them out and disrupting the class worse than it already was by girls giggling over getting flowers from their crush. Craig would have that momentary reprieve where he thinks Stan actually listened to him for once and didn't follow through only… why is there a bunch of flowers together still in the box? Because both Broflovski and Testaburger knew their situation and didn't know how much Craig hated attention they'd save his last. Of course. Then down the aisle they'd come turning almost as red as Stan, who at this point is trying very hard to be inconspicuous behind his textbook, and hold out a bouquet to Craig.

"From your secret admirer!"

In one swift movement Craig had slipped from Stan's grasp and with one hand covering his face in embarrassment he plopped down on his chair. Stan began his sniveling almost immediately afterward.

"Not a single fucking carnation, Stan," Craig hoped his glare conveyed his promise of death by choking on carnations if Stan ignored him.

"But that's what the day is for," Stan whined but had the presence of mind to shuffle back a few inches. "It's to make stupid, sappy declarations in front of other people."

Craig bristled. "The fuck kind of declaration you think you're going to make, Stan?"

"That you're _mine_, Craig."

He felt his breath hitch at the seriousness in Stan's expression. Since when did Stan get so fucking possessive? Craig was property now? He knew he should pound his stupid face in but it was more embarrassing than insulting the longer he let the silence settle over them.

"Look," Stan spoke softly and calmly with both his hands up in a placating gesture, "this is what I was thinking. Valentine's Day is for girls and yeah, I'm the one more concerned about this kind of thing than you so I want to do something for Valentine's Day. But—" he held up his hands to signal he wasn't done talking so Craig backed down a waited "—I kinda figured you might get a kick out of doing White Day."

Craig stared at him. White Day? He let out a breath of air in surprise and felt his blood rush to his face. Craig realized that Stan was getting to know him _very_ well.

"You want to do White Day? Even though hardly no one else will understand what the hell is going on?" Craig hoped his voice came out sounding apprehensive and didn't betray the awe he was beginning to feel towards Stan. Valentine's Day was meant to be a way to get people to splurge ridiculous amounts of money on confections, dinners, and other niceties to woo their special someone. In Asia, the idea was taken one step further with the addition of White Day. So while females across the continent fussed over what to send their beau for Valentine's Day the males knew they'd have to give some sort of reciprocating gesture on March 14 – White Day.

"Yup," Stan beamed. "It'll be like our own secret. Just for us."

Craig adjusted his crossed arms tighter around himself. "And the fact that I don't give you anything publicly isn't going to piss off your friends?"

"Since when did you care about that?" Stan teased him with a grin.

"Since they think its cool to call me out one by one to that fucking court yard," Craig sighed and looked away to mask his embarrassment. It was a ridiculously nerdy idea but had the added benefit that Craig would have a whole extra month to prepare in response to whatever the hell Stan had planned. They wouldn't have to worry about individual plans interfering or take turns or whatever the hell a couple of guys completely fagged out for each other did.

"So," Stan crawled forward expectantly still on his knees. Craig looked at him flatly and snorted at the hopeful expression on his face.

"Fine," Craig relented with a roll of his eyes. "But I swear to God, Stan, not one fucking carnation. Or rose. Or flower, for that matter."

Stan grinned and nearly knocked Craig into the wall behind him with the force of his arms locking tightly around him and lips planted firmly on his. "Excellent. Our first Valentine's."

Craig groaned in embarrassed annoyance. "Keep it up and it'll be our _only_ Valentine's." Stan simply grinned and nuzzled closer to Craig. No matter how much he protested he couldn't get the football player to release him and he was _so totally ignorant_ to the fact that the more he protested the tighter Stan's hold on him became.

As each day passed during the week of the dreaded date Stan became increasingly insufferable. Craig and Stan had established a very strict 'keeping it on the down low' agreement since becoming boyfriends. His friends knew that Craig and Stan had been on a date and something changed to make Craig less reluctant towards Stan's advances after his birthday but the rest of the stuff – the incredibly sexy, feel good, tongue down throats and around certain appendages stuff – didn't need to be addressed. Craig suspected Broflosvki had a vague idea of their progress and definitely knew that McCormick figured it all out. If people had gaydar or straightdar then McCormick had sexdar. In the five days leading up to the 14th, however, Stan and Craig began turning more than one head.

On Monday Stan literally skipped up behind Craig and bumped him in the elbow with a playful wink and smirk. No one could stop talking about the echoing laughter from the jock when he raced away like they were in second grade and not twelfth.

On Tuesday Stan left his normal table abandoned for Craig's. At first no one knew what to say, do, or how to act but Stan amicably struck up conversation with Clyde and Token about various jock things and Craig tried to ignore the proximity of Stan's knee to his own. When the bell rang signaling the return to fifth period Stan had the audacity to carry Craig's books for him. Kevin and Clyde shot Craig a look and Tweek nearly ripped out his hair as he shouted, "For fucking Christ's sake, Craig, _just date him already!_"

On Wednesday Stan showed up during Craig's break at work to buy him dinner. They both had to work Friday night but Stan got Craig to solemnly promise to spend the three free hours they had together and if they were up for it at least two hours after their shifts were over.

On Thursday during morning announcements the Student Council advised everyone to hurry up and buy their carnations for Valentine's Day since it would be their last chance. Craig glared suspiciously at Stan when he refused to make eye contact and twisted his lips to the side in a wry grin. A wave of murmuring rose through the classroom until Craig stood up with both fists clenched at his sides and a glare of open hostility towards the entire class. They shut up immediately and pointedly avoided looking at either him or Stan the rest of the day.

On Friday Craig blearily drudged towards his locker with Clyde yammering away next to him like every morning since they first started high school. Craig was only half paying attention to his friend. He didn't get much sleep for fear of what the day held in store for him. He subtly sighed as he slowly spun his combination into the locker as Clyde's buzz continued in his ear. He opened the door and swung his messenger bag to the floor to begin organizing his things for the day. He couldn't wait for the weekend to start. He could wait for Stan's Valentine's thing but he figured it would be best to treat it like a bandage and just rip it off to get it over with as soon as humanly…

When Clyde's incessant yammering suddenly stopped Craig knew from the top of his head to the tips of his toes that something was horribly wrong. He looked up at his best friend. Clyde was staring down something on the top shelf of his locker like he could set it on fire with his mind. Craig stood up with a sigh and looked at it.

"A letter," he blinked. He slowly reached for the envelope and after studying his name written neatly across the front he opened it up to retrieve the letter inside.

_Craig,_

_I'm sending you this letter myself instead of going through the usual channels. This is probably my last chance to let you know how I feel. Ever since we were freshmen I've liked you. I know it'll probably mean nothing to you but I hope you'll at least accept this letter. Today is Valentine's Day and I know its one of those holidays that you probably really don't care about but its one of my last chances to show you how I feel._

_I hope you have a good day,_

_Your Secret Admirer_

Craig blinked and read the letter once more before turning to Clyde. Clyde had a concerned expression on his face.

"I have a secret admirer?"

Clyde frowned and stuck out his hand for the letter. Craig handed it over and waited patiently as he read it.

"Maybe Stan's being an overly sentimental dumbass," Clyde offered. Craig snorted. He didn't miss the doubt in his voice.

"Maybe but that doesn't look like his handwriting."

Clyde looked up and made a surprised face. "You know your _boyfriend's_ handwriting? Aww, that's so cute!"

"Shut up, Clyde," Craig growled and grabbed the letter from him before slamming his locker shut and marching off towards Stan's locker. It was on the way to their first period class and soon enough he spied Stan leaning against it nodding along to whatever Broflovski was ranting about. Stan immediately stood up straight and waved at Craig with one of his ridiculously happy grins on his face.

"Hey Craig," he stepped forward expectantly. Craig rolled his eyes and shoved the letter at him. Stan's eyes flew open in surprise and Broflovski rested his chin on Stan's shoulder while the two read the letter.

"Oh wow," Broflovski frowned. Stan's mouth set in a heavy, firm line with his eyes narrowed.

"This kind of thing is a little over the top, Stan," Craig sighed and crossed his arms uncomfortably. "If you recall I already agreed to..." he glanced nervously at their best friends "I agreed on your plans for tonight but seriously?"

"Stan didn't write this," Broflovski made a grab for the letter but Stan easily slipped from their small congregation.

"Who is squeezing on my Craig?"

Broflovski and Craig looked at him levelly while Clyde snorted.

"Squeeze?" Clyde chewed at his bottom lip to keep from laughing.

"'My Craig'?" Broflovski arched an eyebrow.

"This isn't funny," Stan looked up and studied Craig's mortified face. "I didn't write this. I don't appreciate it in the least."

Clyde looked between Stan and Craig. Craig could see the gears clicking in to place at the same moment Broflovski's eyes flew wide. "You two are _going out_?"

Craig kicked Clyde in the shin and glared threateningly at Broflovski. "_Keep it the fuck down_."

Broflovski held up his hands in a placating gesture while Clyde hobbled on one leg comically. "Stan, look…"

"No," Stan took another step back as his voice increased in volume. He gripped the letter in his hands causing his arms to increase in mass. Craig nearly rolled his eyes as the show of bravado. "This isn't cool at all. Craig's _mine_."

"I'm your _property_?" Craig glared dangerously at Stan who unfurled the letter again to read it. "You asked me to do… do _that thing_ to mark me as your _property_?"

Stan grunted in response.

"_Fuck_, Stan," Craig grabbed both of his boyfriend's shoulders with clawed fingers, "a diamond ring is more subtle."

"I can't afford one of those," Stan looked up at him from the letter finally, "yet." Craig gapped at him when he looked back at the letter and worried his bottom lip with a finger.

"I want to talk about this possession issue because I'm so not the bitch here," Craig scowled.

"And I want to pummel this asshole who thinks he can move in on what's mine," Stan looked up again and gestured to the letter. "This is a problem, Craig. And for the record I don't think either of us could be considered the 'bitch' in our relationship."

"Okay," Clyde said cheerily having abandoned his quest for sympathy over his leg, "I'm officially uncomfortable with part of this conversation."

"The possession part or the discussing who bottoms part," Broflovski looked as disgusted as his voice sounded.

Clyde looked thoughtful for a moment before blanching. "You guys alternate. Craig tops on pay days and Tuesdays while Stan tops on game days and Wednesdays – there, problem solved. How about we move on to the letter issue?"

Stan looked at Clyde very seriously. "Why does he get pay days?"

"You notice how smug he gets when cashing his pay check? He'd probably dirty talk you and throw you some bills for a lap dance if you make it worth his while," Clyde wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"You're as bad as McCormick," Craig sighed.

Stan nodded his head. "No, no, it makes a strange kind of sense…" Craig looked at him with an expression that promised throttling as soon as the first available opportunity presented itself.

"Stan," Broflovski hissed. "The letter?"

They all frowned and peered at it together again. McCormick took that moment to pop up – literally – from around Clyde's shoulder and peered at the letter with them.

"Ah, Christ," he scrubbed at his forehead before draping an arm around Clyde's shoulders. "I knew this would happen sooner or later."

"We were just discussing what to do about it," Broflovski supplied.

"Wait, you knew about this?" Stan looked alarmed at McCormick. "You didn't warn me?"

"Not my fault you picked to have a fag crush over one of the hottest guys in our grade," McCormick nodded and snapped his fingers for the letter. Stan handed it over with a hopeful expression on his face as McCormick read it, nodded once, and then promptly tore into pieces.

"There," he grinned and patted his hands. "Problem solved. Now I believe that constitutes a free lunch so who is paying?"

Stan continued gapping at him like a dead fish while Broflovski crossed his arms and turned towards his best friend. Seeing the condition he was in he turned to Craig instead and arched an eyebrow.

"Answers, please?"

"No shit," Clyde looked genuinely hurt while McCormick looked interestedly on. "We don't keep secrets, Craig."

"When did this escalate?"

"Exactly when did you plan on telling the rest of us?"

"How could Stan keep something as big as this from me? He was constantly going on and on about how much he liked you that you'd think at the very least…"

"I get you like your privacy, bro, but for God's sake I kinda need to know about this kind of thing before random school violence breaks out. If the rest of the team finds out about Stan being a fudge packer…"

"Forget him gaining any scholarships now. Once the coaches figure it out and they always do Stan's going to have a harder time getting help through school."

"Do your parents know? Are they okay with this? What about Prom? How's that supposed to work?"

"I get how fleeting his relationships have been in the past but you aren't worried the girls are going to bother you two even more when this gets out?"

"Fuck man, you two are going to be officially blacklisted at every party from now until August…"

"Enough," Craig hissed. His fists were clenched tightly inside his pants pockets with his shoulders hunched up around his ears. He glanced around the hallway and seeing its desertion he relaxed a little. "Fuck, guys, don't you realize how much this honestly isn't any of your goddamned business?"

Broflovski settled his weight to the side, crossed his arms, and raised his eyebrow further towards his hairline. Clyde looked at him with an exaggerated expression of boredom. McCormick huffed and shook his head.

"Just answer the questions, Tucker."

Craig sneered, felt his face flush, and then clicked his tongue in annoyance at the zoned out expression of his… boyfriend. Stan was his boyfriend no ifs, ands, or buts about it. He deflated.

"We're… we're going out."

The trio stayed silent before barraging him with questions at the same time. Craig grimaced.

"Fine! For fuck's sake," he pulled a hand from his pocket to run it through his hair and looked at the wall of lockers behind Stan's head. "Since my birthday. After the party we decided. I'm not telling you how far we've gone, McCormick. It isn't _any_ of your business. As for the rest of the student population knowing, well, if they haven't figured it out by how fucking gay Stan's been acting all week then there isn't much to worry about, right?"

Broflovski still looked a little stunned but more out of hurt from Stan keeping information than the words Craig was using. Clyde and McCormick took it all in stride and nodded thoughtfully.

"As for the part about his scholarships," Craig blinked, "Stan isn't going for sports in college."

"He's not?"

Craig shook his head slightly feeling suddenly awkward in front of four surprised pairs of eyes.

"He said he wants to focus on his major. He said he's done."

Broflovski continued to look stunned while Stan opened his mouth to say something and only smiled at Craig. Craig snorted again and looked away in embarrassment.

"Wow," McCormick piped up and withdrew from Clyde to embrace Craig. "You two talk about the future?"

"I can't believe it," Broflovski looked on the verge of tears as his eyes met Stan's. "Craig Tucker is going to separate us?"

Craig wanted to shove every single one of them into the wall of lockers as they turned to look at him at the same time. He looked at Stan and felt an odd mixture of emotions at the look of concentration on his face.

"I don't know," Stan responded carefully. Craig felt his body temperature sky rocket at the combined knowledge of what Stan was hesitating to say and the tone of his words that really said he did know. He knew what Craig was to him and it terrified Craig that he knew how to read Stan like that. He spied from the corner of his eye that Broflovski had similar knowledge and swallowed thickly.

"Come on, r-tard," Craig grappled at Stan's shoulder surprising their little congregation with the show of physical contact that didn't result in blood loss. "We're going to be late for first period."

The day went by slowly and was much too warm for Craig's comfort. Stan was uncharacteristically quiet and kept shooting confused looks in Craig's direction. Usually he wandered the halls between classes with one of his own friends but Stan's demeanor was actually starting to get to him. At first he was angry then he felt confusion of his own and then he started getting slightly worried. Stan had looked forward to this day for a whole week and instead of pushing Craig's boundaries as much as possible he was distant.

Craig followed him silently into their English class and to their usual seats. He continued watching Stan surreptitiously during roll call. Ten minutes into a classroom discussion on Beowulf the classroom door opened and in walked Wendy Testaburger with a box of flowery death. Craig groaned with several other guys in the room and propped his chin up on his fist. Hopefully she would hurry the fuck up so the day could end and Craig could figure out what he needed to do about Stan.

She smiled as the teacher grudgingly took her seat behind her desk and turned the class over to Testaburger. Craig stared disinterestedly at the chalkboard barely registering her movements. She handed out flowers to nearly every girl in the classroom and a few to a couple of the boys. He only paid attention when she circled around to Stan's desk. Stan received some white flowers and red flowers but instead of reacting to them he didn't even seem to notice. Craig watched as Testaburger rolled her eyes with an amused smile and set the carnations down on his desk. She stood upright and beamed to no one in particular but her eyes fleetingly found Craig's.

"Ten carnations, Stanley. You're such a lucky guy!"

Craig narrowed his eyes while the rest of the room reacted. Testaburger simply shrugged a shoulder and began sauntering towards the classroom door. Craig kept his eyes trained on Stan. He watched as Stan sifted through the flowers without reacting to a single one before sighing. He parted his lips wanting very much to say something to cheer Stan up when his line of vision was obscured by deep red. He blinked and leaned back seeing Testaburger grinning wildly at him.

"Oops, seems I forgot to hand you yours, Craig Tucker," she voice was louder than necessary making Craig cringe. The rest of the room murmured and he noticed Stan finally looking in his direction with an expression of disdain and bewilderment.

"You got one of the largest bouquets and a few singles. Twelve in all and all red," she lowered them onto his desk. "Looks like you've got a secret admirer or two."

Craig felt as cold as ice as he flipped over the attached notes between two fingers. Secret Admirer, Secret Admirer, Tweek Tweak, Secret Admirer, and Secret Admirer. He glanced at Stan and felt his stomach give way at the pure rage on his face.

"Stan," Craig began softly and flinched with the rest of the class as he clambered up from his desk.

"Who the fuck keeps sending you these?" Stan bounded over to his desk in three swift steps and glared at the carnations.

"Jesus, Marsh," one of the guys on the football team at the back of the class laughed. "Sucks to be in second place, I know but chill out. They're just gay ass flowers." A few other jocks in the back corner laughed with him. Craig tried to convey with his eyes to Stan that everything was okay. They had fifteen minutes left of school and then they could talk about it. Stan wasn't having that and opened his mouth to speak again when Testaburger shoved the half filled box of flowers at his chest. Craig and Stan both turned to look at her stunned.

"Man are my shoulders tired from carrying that thing," she smiled at their teacher. "Is it okay if I borrow Stanley for the duration of class to help me carry these? I'm really sorry."

Their teacher was half risen from her desk in alarm over Stan's outburst and nodded distractedly. Craig let out a small sigh of relief. Testaburger looked at him and he nodded in understanding. He totally owed her one. She swiftly collected Stan's things and steered him towards the classroom door and out into the hallway. Craig sat there with the stupid flowers on his desk feeling completely mortified as the rest of the students stared at him with varying expressions. He pulled the sleeves of his hoodie down over his hands and slumped further in his seat.

The disruption was so absolute that their teacher suggested they spend the rest of the period doing free study. Craig purposely made a big show of pouring over his textbook so that the few people brave enough to lean towards him immediately backed off. He had no idea what page he was on and kept glancing impatiently at the clock. Finally the bell rang and without properly loading up his bag he pulled his books towards him and bolted out of the door leaving the damned flowers on his desk.

He quickly opened his locker and filled his bag with all of his books. He slammed his locker door shut and headed off in the direction of Stan's locker not knowing where else to go look for him. He didn't have to wait long as Stan suddenly marched up towards him and after grabbing him firmly at the elbow he wheeled Craig around and guided him towards the parking lot. Craig glared at him along the way. No one seemed to be paying them any attention since they were too distracted over their carnations. Once Craig saw his car he felt a wave of immense relief wash over him. Stan released him and waited patiently as Craig fished out his keys and unlocked their doors. They were nearly at the halfway mark where different streets took them to their individual houses when Stan spoke up.

"My house."

Craig didn't argue and coolly steered along the familiar route to Stan's house. They stayed silent as Craig pulled up in front of the Marsh household and killed the engine. Stan made no move to get out of the car so Craig waited.

"I'm sorry I almost outed us in class," Stan spoke softly. Craig let out a relieved breath. "I wasn't pissed about the number of flowers, fucking O'Donnell needs to shut his goddamned mouth."

"I figured as much," Craig offered gently.

"I was pissed about the fact you got flowers. From other people."

Craig looked at Stan and was surprised to see so much anger in his eyes. "Because I wouldn't let you…"

"No," Stan shook his head. "I know Tweek sends all of you guys a carnation but where did all of the other ones come from?"

"If it makes you feel any better I didn't even touch them."

Stan slumped in the passenger seat and sighed. He fiddled with his house key and closed his eyes. "I don't want this to ruin today. I don't want the letter to get to me like it does or the flowers."

"So don't let them," Craig smirked a little and slowly reached out to touch the back of Stan's hand with his index finger. Stan nodded and rotated his hand so that his palm was facing up and Craig slid his hand into it curling their fingers together. He waited until Stan had taken a few more calming breaths before feeling his face heat up and mumbling, "I want to see what you planned."

Stan looked at him startled. Craig nodded encouragingly.

"I may actually be looking forward to it." Craig looked away. He was lying and he knew that Stan knew he was lying but it was one of those white lies you were supposed to tell someone you cared about to make them feel better. Stan laughed under his breath and muttered something before leaning over and wrapping his free hand around Craig's head to pull it towards him for a brief kiss. Craig squeezed Stan's hand in response and felt slightly dismayed at the absence of Stan's warmth as they separated to exit the car.

Stan swiftly connected their hands together again and Craig had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from yelling. This was something he could do for Stan even though he really didn't like PDA or being fretted over. He realized with a start as they ascended the stair case towards Stan's room that as much as he hated being the center of attention he wanted to monopolize Stan's. He might not have been looking forward to the holiday but he was genuinely curious to see what Stan had planned.

Craig squeezed Stan's hand again earning a warm smile. _Better_, Craig thought as they reached his room and closed the door behind them. Stan gently pushed Craig against it and kissed him chastely on the lips multiple times pulling back to look at him between each one. Craig felt his chest warm with each kiss and pulled Stan closer to lengthen them. Stan finally quit teasing him and pressed himself closer to Craig as he kissed him deeply. Craig curled an arm around Stan's waist while wrapping the other around his shoulders. Stan made a contented sound and steadied himself by holding on to Craig's hips.

"Better?" Craig breathed when Stan finally pulled apart. Stan laughed a little and nodded.

"Much," he pressed their foreheads together and closed his eyes. Craig pulled him closer and simply breathed the air between them. Stan was always going to be the more affectionate, feeling one out of the two of them. Craig waited patiently as Stan basked in the feel of their closeness. Craig knew he hadn't just been upset about the stupid letter or the flowers. Something suddenly shifted within him and Craig had a sneaking suspicion of what that was but couldn't bare to think about it. At least not until the stupid day was over and he could be certain he wasn't being swept away by it.

"Okay, sit down and I'll get your gift," Stan kissed him briefly and stepped out of Craig's arms. Craig nodded, feeling suddenly awkward and shuffled over to Stan's bed to sit down. Stan rummaged through his computer desk before pulling out a small box with a hastily tied red ribbon and sat down on his bed. They looked apprehensively at each other for a moment before Craig kicked off his shoes and slid back to sit cross legged in the center of the bed. Stan smiled and followed suit then held out the box towards Craig.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Craig," Stan smiled nervously and bumped their knees together. Craig gave a terse smile in response and accepted the gift. He licked his lips nervously as he removed the ribbon and felt ridiculous as he pried open the lid. He peered at the inside of the box and slightly tilted his head to the side.

It was a game token. The kind you used at the arcade only it had been punched in the top so that it could be attached to a clip and strung on a black corded necklace. It was actually pretty cool looking and had been cleaned up so it was very shiny. He picked it up for a closer look and suddenly realized where he had seen the token.

"It's from our first date," Stan supplied. "I realized I had one of the tokens still in my pocket and kept it with me. It became like a lucky talisman or something and made me think, you know, game continued." He shrugged a shoulder and picked at the hem of his pant leg. Craig looked back at the coin and turned it over in his palm watching as the cord followed. "Kenny let me into the shop class to make the hole and Shelly helped me string it so it won't come off. You don't have to wear it if you don't want to."

Craig threw him a baleful look. "If there's only one thing I know about you, Stan, after today it is that you want nothing more than to mark me as yours. Don't deny it." He held up his hand as Stan tried to speak. "I think that thought is stupid but I'll accept your gift." He undid the clasp and moved to put it on when he caught Stan's eyes. They were a mixture of relief and worry. Craig rolled his eyes and held on to the necklace with one hand while he used the other to help navigate him around in a circle so that his back was facing Stan. "Help me put it on you idiot."

He didn't need to see the smile on Stan's face with his own eyes to know it was there because as Stan's fingers brushed his own to take the ends of the necklace Craig had one on his face. He didn't need to see the obvious look of pride in Stan's eyes with his own to know it was there because he felt it his chest as Stan clasped the jewelry together. He didn't need to know how much joy Stan felt because it tingled through his skin as he pressed a small, gentle kiss on the back of his neck.

He leaned back into Stan's chest and took a deep breath as his strong arms wrapped around him pulling him closer while Stan settled his chin on Craig's shoulder. His hands shook as he grabbed Stan's forearms where they were clinched together over his chest. Craig realized at that moment that he had no one to talk to about what was happening between them. He didn't need to hear Stan say it but he was pretty sure the idiot was feeling something far stronger than _like_ towards him.

It scared Craig completely that he might be feeling the same way.

* * *

><p><strong>AN**: Okay, I am so much happier with this chapter than it was originally written. This was originally supposed to be a short chapter but because I thought it was a giant leap between this one (which didn't have the Valentine's Day stuff in it) to the next chapter… I kinda felt there needed to be some fluff. But important fluff! Thanks again for all the attention to the story!


	7. What Have I Done to Deserve This?

For Gentlemen Only

Chapter Seven: What Have I Done to Deserve This?

Their last Spring Break elicits some very sexy time and very strong emotions in Craig. Letters continue appearing in Craig's locker and threaten to start drama before Prom. How _exactly_ is Prom going to go anyway?

* * *

><p>Stan had been impossible to deal with leading up to White Day. Craig still couldn't believe he liked the jerk enough to actually follow through on it and plan something. He didn't get this whole possession thing Stan was on about but he did know how much he liked sappy, emotional things so he set up a photography session for them. His mom had kind of been nagging at him about taking some photos with Stan and making memories during Senior year and all that garbage. He had used a lot of his Christmas, birthday, and theatre money to get a really nice camera and honestly hadn't had time to really make good use of it. Basically, it was a great way to break it in and hope that Stan wouldn't literally break it in his girlish excitement (close call but Mr. Jock had nimble enough hands that he was spared the full extent of Craig's wrath.) Fucker was very lucky Craig thought he was a fairly decent kisser and feeler upper and overall sexy distracter.<p>

There were times when Craig wondered whether he was actually meant to spend eternity alone. There were other times when he wondered if Stan was just part of some huge, apparently hysterical joke like one of those douche bag secret camera shows on TV. There were still other times he wanted to smack Stan upside the head and ask him _really, you really want to talk to me and kiss me and touch me in places the court needs a genderless, expressionless doll for victims to point out bad touches on?_ The more he thought about it the more the situation seemed totally unfair and he would scream and tear his hair out but a) Stan seemed to have this fetish over his hair and hey, who was he to complain over _fucking awesome_ head rubs and b) he wasn't prone to that kind of thing.

Basically, every time he initiated something new into their… no easy way to say it… _relationship_ (gag) he failed horribly.

Like, so bad he was certain most of the time that Stan would yank back on his pants, laugh in his face, then run off to McCormick or somebody to blab and increase his humiliation tenfold.

Sometimes Craig didn't even realize when Stan was touching him now. They would be sprawled on his bed watching a movie or some anime and suddenly Stan's lips would brush the spot just below and behind his right ear sending electric tingles down his spine. Too many times he had been sitting someplace minding his own business when suddenly he could feel Stan's hands sliding up the sides of his arms to grab at his elbows like he was the football heading down the field for the final touchdown of the big game or something. Stan liked getting his hands down Craig's pants, was more of a fan of shoving his tongue down his throat, but infinitely more of a fan of being affectionate through nuzzling, cuddling, and not being as subtle as he thinks when breathing in his scent.

The longer he went without talking to anyone about it the more Craig was fairly certain Stan was in love with him. His suspicions were nearly cemented when Craig was having one of the worst days ever. He woke up on the wrong side of the bed, got in a fight with his mother, forgot nearly all of his homework, and was sent home early from his shift at the theatre. Stan had figured it out somehow and showed up at his doorstep with a box of his favorite junk food and the boxed set of _Samurai 7_. It wasn't the gesture so much as the concern in his eyes and wry twist of his lips when Craig embarrassedly yelled at him about the whole situation. Stan merely told him to shut up and held him in an iron grip against his chest and Craig _absolutely_ didn't like it.

Stan had done something amazing for him for his own birthday in helping him get over his fear of what the two of them could be. He'd never admit it out loud but he really did like what he had with Stan. The best part was that he didn't really have to say anything about it. His friends knew better than to tease him over it and not just because he would kick their asses but because their table had merged with Stan's and Kyle was ridiculously defensive about the two of them. In another life, he'd probably be jealous of the attention Kyle took away from Stan but it was usually to try to get them to be politically active or take a stand or something completely retarded like that. Stan would always laugh it off and tell him no. He understood how little attention on the issue Craig wanted and he always thanked him properly for it after school.

Craig wanted to do something amazing for Stan during Spring Break. At first he thought they could try to have sex but Craig was so not ready for that. They had spent twenty minutes awkwardly examining the gift Stan's sister got him for Christmas and refused to make eye contact for two hours after that. He just couldn't see himself bending over for Stan when he thought about it. His dreams, however, were a completely different story. In his defense the dreams he had about being taken over a table, counter top, or wall were just as frequent as the ones where he had Stan underneath him. Stan was always louder and sluttier and Craig had no basis for this presumption beyond what he _so did not_ see in some hardcore gay anime or foreign language gay erotica (because the subtitles made it that much more bearable for him for some odd reason.)

So the idea of giving himself (so fucking girly) to Stan was out. Craig knew that Stan would prefer something emotional or a huge romantic gesture to something material anyway. Maybe Stan would like it if Craig orchestrated a date. You know, just a kind of 'look at how far we've come' kind of gesture.

Even if he completely fell on his face it was worth a shot, right?

Senior year was about making memories with the people you have suffered through twelve years with. It was about marking the transition from minor responsibilities to a rude awakening of the real world. It was about having uninhibited fun, a last hurrah before settling down and establishing yourself in the outside. As early as the return from the winter break people began freaking out about it. Craig had been looking forward to it since Sophomore year but there was one thing he was concerned about.

Where did Stan fit in his future?

As completely gay as the token thing had been at the time Craig realized it really was the symbol of their relationship. It was a shiny gold color with a huge star with a smaller one inside of it on one side while the other side had the arcade's logo with the words "Fun for everyone!" etched around it. Craig chose to wear the star side out. He was the tiny, insignificant star that Stan completely overshadowed but he was the one with Stan's star so in effect, Stan's attempts to mark Craig as his own had been reversed. Stan was his.

Now he just needed to be told that.

Craig listened with barely concealed annoyance as their table discussed the multitude of parties occurring all around Park County during their last Spring Break. Craig had somehow managed to get the same exact work schedule as Stan and the moment he made this discovery a plan began forming in his mind. He watched as Stan made comments on the parties and tapped his foot impatiently for the bell to ring. He wanted to catch Stan alone before the end of the school day so that Stan could have some time to think about his idea. Finally the bell sounded and everyone grumbled as they cleaned up their table. Craig pulled Stan back by the elbow so they were walking a few feet behind their group of friends.

"'Sup," Stan smiled at him.

"I don't want to go to any parties," Craig looked at him.

Stan laughed gently and shoved his hands into his pockets so he could playfully bump elbows with Craig. "Okay. Did you have something else in mind?"

Craig nodded.

"Really," Stan dropped his voice and grinned playfully. "Is it a surprise or can I ask?"

Craig looked around to make sure everyone was truly out of earshot. "I want to repay the favor."

Stan looked at him in confusion. "What favor? We're usually pretty good about making each other—"

"That's not what I meant," Craig hissed and clenched his fist awkwardly. "It'll be something you like. We'll talk about it later."

"Then why bring it up now?"

"I just don't want you promising us to show up at any dumbass parties," Craig sighed.

Stan thought for a moment then nodded. "Okay. But we're going to straight to my house after school to talk about it, right?"

Craig deliberated this for a moment. Stan's would be better since his house was empty until later in the evening. "Yeah."

Stan beamed at him and rambled on about one of their class assignments on their way to their next class but Craig wasn't fooled. He knew Stan was itching with curiosity. The rest of the day seemed to drag and Craig felt his irritation increase with every minute. He wanted to get away from the school so fucking badly and get on with a solid nine days off. Thankfully their English teacher took pity and allowed them to leave an extra fifteen minutes early. Stan made quick work of collecting his things from his locker and waited with a patient, expectant smile while Craig shuffled through his. Before he knew it they were at Stan's empty house clamoring up the stairs to his room.

"All right, I've waited long enough, right?"

Craig rolled his eyes and looked around Stan's room before turning back towards him. "I thought we could talk about… us."

Concern flashed briefly on Stan's face before he broke out into an uncertain smile. "Us?"

Craig nodded and clenched his fists. "I, um, I kind of feel like you're doing a lot more giving than me."

Stan signaled he was listening.

"I wonder sometimes if you think I'm just going along with you or feel like I'm not as… ugh, invested as you obviously are," Craig felt his face heat up. "I know how feely you are so I figured we could talk about doing more… coupley things together." Craig knew he was sweating and cringed each time he felt uncomfortable with his words.

Stan looked at him for a long time before rubbing the back of his head. "More coupley things? Like… we could actually do things together in public without hiding?"

"I feel like I owe you," Craig nodded and looked to the side embarrassedly. Silence spread between before a huge grin split across Stan's face. Craig narrowed his eyes in suspicion and was about to take a few steps back when Stan tackled him onto his bed in utter elation.

"_Jesus fucking Christ, Stan!_" Craig squirmed as Stan clung to him excitedly. Stan managed to wrestle Craig's wrists above his head and leaned back slightly as he straddled Craig's hips.

"You won't go back on this?"

Craig opened his mouth to tell Stan to get the fuck off of him but thought better of it and went limp in resignation. "Yeah."

Stan leaned down and kissed him loudly on the lips then leaned back again to look Craig properly in the face.

"Then this is what I want…"

Craig sucked in a loud breath as he waited.

"We're going to prom."

Craig groaned and tugged lamely at his pinned wrists.

"We're going to _match_."

"I want to kick you so bad right now."

"I want you to kiss me."

"During prom?"

Stan shrugged one shoulder without dropping his grin. "Before prom, during prom, after prom. All the time, Craig."

"I already do," Craig grumbled.

"_At school_. I want you to hold my hand, too."

"Oh God, Stan," Craig did try to kick Stan off him this time. "That's so fucking gay!"

"You'll do these things for me?" Stan peered down at him seriously. Craig frowned at him while they carried out a staring contest. Stan jutted out his lower lip just enough for Craig to cave with a groan. "Say it, Craig."

"Yes," he sighed. "I'll do them."

Stan crowed victoriously and brought their faces closer together.

"I— I'm really happy, Craig."

Craig instantly stilled. Blinked. "What?"

Stan grinned, sliding his hands down Craig's arms, nuzzling his neck, and shifting himself to roll his hips suggestively on top of Craig's. Craig groaned and searched with his mouth for Stan's. Stan pulled back just enough to keep his mouth out of reach and looked seriously into Craig's eyes.

"Thank you for doing this for me," he sealed Craig's response with his mouth and the two melted into the kiss. Craig twisted his freed hands into Stan's hair to tug him closer while Stan continued moving on top of him. Craig chose to focus all of his energy on keeping Stan happy and ignored the pleasantly warm feeling blooming within his chest at those ridiculously sappy words.

Stan's hands slid down Craig's sides and up his shirt. Craig arched his back into his touch as Stan's fingers began tracing indistinct lines on his stomach and ribs while simultaneously hiking Craig's shirt up higher. It had started off as a kiss with a whole different kind of meaning behind it and Craig couldn't help but let himself get carried away as it changed into something more intense and urgent.

"Stan," he breathed into his mouth as they broke apart enough to pull Craig's shirt over his head. As soon as he was freed of it he glued himself back to Stan's mouth relishing the sweet taste.

Until Stan came up with his brilliant suggestion.

"_Craig_," he breathed or moaned or something very much between the two on his neck. Craig fisted his hair with one hand and began lifting up Stan's shirt with the other. "Craig, I want to come at the same time."

"Hm?" Craig tried to concentrate on what Stan was saying and slowed down on stripping off his shirt. Why the fuck Stan was still talking was beyond him but he forced his eyes to meet his anyway. Stan smiled down at him and lazily twirled some of his hair while running his other hand down Craig's torso soothingly, painfully, _deliciously_ slow.

"We always take turns but I want us to come at the same time."

Craig forced his breathing to steady. "We're not ready for—"

"I know," Stan grinned. "Basically what I was thinking was giving a helping hand…" Craig narrowed his eyes in confusion as Stan rolled his slightly. "You know, at the same time?"

_Ah_, Craig sucked in a huge breath as it clicked. "Um, completely naked?"

Stan nodded.

Craig deliberated this for all of three seconds before tugging Stan's shirt up and over his head. Stan blinked as he shook off the sudden feeling of cotton against his face. Craig felt himself flush at the feeling of so much of his skin in direct contact with so much of Stan's. He ran his hands from the top of Stan's pants up, over his stomach, letting his thumbs brush both of his nipples at the same time, and lazily draped his arms over his muscled shoulders.

"Mmkay," Craig smirked and watched Stan's eyes darken through his own hooded ones. "You're lucky I'm in such a hospitable mood."

Stan let out a bark of laughter before marking Craig's neck, chest, and shoulders between kisses. Craig allowed himself to become amazed at the different ways Stan was able to excite him and lazily rolled his hips up into Stan's. He chuckled slightly at the growl solicited in response to their half hardness meeting through their jeans. Suddenly he wanted very much to be free of then and after gathering his courage through gentle kneading of the muscles on Stan's back he snaked a hand between them. Stan let out a slight hiss before biting down on a particularly sensitive area of Craig's neck.

"Fuck, _Stan_," Craig moaned and allowed himself a mental victory shout as he located the button on Stan's jeans and began undoing them. Stan grunted as Craig slowly lowered the zipper, which was a feat in of itself – Craig noted – because not once had their hips stopped rolling against each other. When he succeeded he felt both of their stiff cocks against his hand and desperately wanted to feel Stan's flush against his with either one or maybe both of their hands wrapped around them both. He instantly saw the appeal of this idea and as Stan's mouth found his own again he made quick work of undoing his own jeans.

Stan extended both of his legs the moment Craig was done with this and together they shimmied out of their jeans and with thumbs swiftly unhooked their boxers from their bodies until there was nothing but air between them. Craig marveled at their shared intuitively need to see their exposed selves. It wasn't as awkward as Craig thought it would be and appreciated it when Stan propped himself on his right elbow and hip flush next to his left so they could let their hands roam over thighs, arms, chests, and hips. Stan's eyes met his and it was gratifying to see all the same emotions and sentiments flying through his brain in those eyes.

"_Beautiful_," Stan breathed at the same time Craig whispered, "_Unbelievable_."

Stan wrapped his free left hand around Craig's right and brought their connected fingers to his trembling lips for a chaste kiss. Craig felt himself let out a shaky breath. This really was unbelievable. Being so exposed to someone without anything to hide behind. He distantly realized he was completely vulnerable to Stan at that moment but when Stan's eyes wandered from somewhere around Craig's feet and into his eyes he saw that Stan felt the same. His cock twitched in response and Craig almost wanted to say those words back to him. He didn't want to ruin it though as Stan kissed him deeply again and slowly aligned them before wrapping his warm hand around both of their lengths.

Craig let his head fall back at the sensation and shifted his legs into a better position so they could get closer – _fuck_ – if that was even possible at that moment. Stan continued to kiss him as he set a steady rhythm. Craig felt his body arching into every touch and wrapped his arms around Stan to palm the small of his back. They were both moaning loudly into their kisses and the heat between their bodies must've been high enough to make breakfast for all Craig could figure out. As Stan's rhythm increased Craig let his hands slide lower and lower and lower…

"Oh _fuck, Craig_," Stan broke apart and breathed in his face as Craig's hands slid over Stan's exposed ass. Craig allowed a momentary snicker as he totally got himself a handful but Stan rolled against him in a move that desperately made him ache for release and for it to never end all at the same time.

"Come with me, Craig," Stan's eyes were slightly out of focus and glazed and all Craig could do was moan in response.

"_Stan_," Craig breathed and he wasn't sure if it was to encourage Stan to hold the fuck out for once or because he was just feeling really fucking amazing at that moment.

Stan didn't seem to mind either way and ran a thumb over both of their heads causing Craig to throw his head back and buck his hips in time with Stan's. They were being rather noisy at this point and totally sweating on each other but fuck if Craig could bring himself to care. He wanted more and grabbed more of Stan's ass in his hands and why _the fuck_ hadn't they done this sooner if it felt this fucking amazing…

Stan's breathing became even more erratic calling Craig's attention to the fact that his was, too. He felt Stan's dick twitching in need and his own responded. Stan looked into his eyes again with an amazing sort of expression in them he couldn't decode at the moment before groaning and coaxing Craig closer and closer and _Come with me, Craig_.

"_Stan_," Craig gasped and before he could finish breathing Stan's mouth was on his again and they were swallowing each other's voices as they both spilled over Stan's hand. Craig managed to breathe in a sound that was very close to a sob as Stan coaxed every last bit of their joint orgasm out of their bodies. It was the most phenomenal thing Craig had ever experienced and when Stan finally let their spent dicks go, in spite of the desire to get as much cool air as possible between them, he wrapped his arms around Stan's shoulders to pull him close.

Stan ducked his head down into the crook of his neck and while he gave up and allowed his own chest to fight for air he relished in the feeling of Stan's heavy panting against his ear. They were gross and too hot and horribly sticky but Craig knew he loved the bastard who put him in that state. Stan seemed to have calmed down enough to concern himself with some sense of decency and peeled himself from Craig. Craig shamelessly whimpered at the loss of contact yet welcomed the cool air against his bare body. He knew he should be the one to search for a towel and nearly laughed as Stan stumbled around in a daze for one. He pushed the personal reprimand aside when he felt Stan wiping up their bodies between chaste kisses to Craig's arms, legs, and stomach.

Stan tossed the towel towards his hamper and Craig managed through great effort to sit up and slide beneath Stan's covers with him. Stan settled himself in first and motioned for Craig to sidle up beside him. He didn't need to be asked twice and curled himself against Stan's right and sighed contentedly as their arms wove around one another. He felt Stan breathing in the faint traces of his shampoo in his hair and pressing kisses to the top of his head. It was so safe and so warm and so right.

"Don't say I never do anything for you, Stan," Craig managed to croak out before a huge yawn threatened to overtake him.

Stan's chest rumbled melodiously with his laughter. He pressed another kiss into Craig's hair and tightened his hold on him in appreciation. Craig smiled briefly before another yawn erupted and this time he let it take hold.

* * *

><p>"Frot?"<p>

"What are we, British?" Craig's face changed colors as he clacked away at his computer.

"Joint jerk off? I don't know, Craig," Stan rolled over onto his stomach on top of Craig's bed. "It's technically sex."

Craig made a hesitating noise. Stan rolled his eyes and observed Craig with a slight smirk on his face. Whatever it was that Craig was going to decide to call it had been so fucking amazing. Stan was still floored that Craig let them do it. Coming at the same time had been great and they'd done the act several times over the course of Spring Break but that wasn't what made Stan feel like a giddy school girl.

He got to see Craig completely naked.

It was incredible. Until then Craig had only taken his shirt off or dropped his pants far enough for Stan to satisfy him but he meant what he said when he called Craig beautiful. His whole body fit Stan's in just the right places which worried him slightly because he knew they each had some more room to grow. Would his bones stretch so far that he'd have to wriggle around a knobby kneecap or risk an elbow to his ribcage? He hoped not. Stan liked that his hands were bigger than Craig's and that Craig's feet were bigger than his. Craig had yelled at him for pointing it out and laughing over it but really it was kind of perfect. Stan's legs were evenly proportioned even if his torso was a little short. Craig was all length and lean.

As for their personal effects, well, Stan didn't really know what to say as far as aesthetics were concerned but he liked the way Craig fit in his hand and vice versa. Only time would tell if they'd ever get to have anal sex or not but Stan figured that was at least a few months after graduation. Or maybe during college. Who knows, it wasn't happening any time soon since they still couldn't look at something as innocuous as a deflated balloon without Craig getting super defensive or Stan coming down with a case of the drops (not so bad around Wal-Mart; mortifying in a toy store.)

April was coming up and Stan had coaxed his way into Craig's house under the pretense of finishing up their pointless English assignment when really his goal was much more transparent.

"So about Prom," Stan began without preamble.

Craig sighed long suffering and groaned as he slouched in his chair. "We're really going?"

"Didn't you say that Mom wouldn't let you skip out on it?" Stan grinned at the half-hearted glare Craig shot him. Stan had taken up the habit of calling Mrs. Tucker 'Mom' since Stan had seen her son in his birthday suit. He had to bite the inside of his left cheek to keep his thoughts clear of images of Craig's flushed skin and the dark, lusty look in those eyes when Stan pretended to relinquish control to Craig. The fucker was quite enthusiastic once he threw out his inhibitions. Stan cursed that Spring Break was only one week and not several weeks strung next to each other with a requirement that all nubile teens in the middle of their physical experimentation stages be allowed to isolate themselves from other distractions like studying, family, and work.

"Yeah but if you value my opinion you won't insist on something as stupid as—"

"I want to match our eyes," Stan interrupted Craig with a grin knowing exactly how he was going to end his sentence.

"Fuck," Craig glowered at him and in quick, lithe movements stood up from his chair to tower over Stan on his own bed. "That's exactly what I don't want."

"Doesn't blue go so well with gray?" Stan grinned pretending to be completely oblivious to his boyfriend's mortification.

Craig snarled and increased the fierceness of his glower. Stan smirked and rolled onto his side.

"It's either that or we wear these two gaudy pink suits with frilly shirts that'll make us look like a couple of super gay LeStats."

"_No_," Craig's shoulders rose to the height of his ears and Stan had to scrunch up his mouth hard to keep from laughing as Craig actually stomped his foot like a five year old being sent to bed without a cookie for dessert.

"What do you suggest then, Craig?"

"Not going."

"Not an option."

Craig sneered and began pacing like a caged animal. Stan knew this topic seriously pissed Craig off but he got so much enjoyment out of the fact that someone else ultimately suffered his wrath and Stan was now completely exempt. Well, Stan 'suffered' when he let Craig take control of their cop-a-feel escapades but he honestly considered that a win-win for the both of them.

"Just to let you know I wasn't going to insist on a limo or even dinner," Stan scratched at his nose. Craig slowed his pacing and visibly relaxed as he looked to Stan for confirmation. "Glorious waste of living expense fundage for next semester wouldn't you say?"

"We haven't decided," Craig's skin began flushing pink causing Stan to smile. He wanted to live with Craig in college. Why not? Craig had his shit completely together and Stan had… well, he could cook. He knew deep down inside that he would always be one of those people dependent on another person for stability and order. Craig liked control and maybe not order but consistency was definitely up there. Stan had kind of hoped when they first discussed the idea that Craig would say something unintentionally romantic like _Well duh, dumbass, of course we're living together_. But Craig said it was too far off to talk about it and Stan really knew it was too far off in their relationship to talk about it. They hadn't even gotten to that one damning word yet. The one that meant this was for real and not just some hormone induced, out on my own for the first time, rebelling against the establishment kind of relationship.

Stan knew he was in love with Craig. No one in the whole world that he had met yet made him feel like Craig did. Everyone else had been a product of spontaneity, peer pressure, or convenience. He tried with Craig. He worked so damn hard to get him to turn around and look at him properly. The moment Craig did Stan knew it was stronger than liking him or finding him attractive. This person was meant to be with him and he was meant to be with them. Every cell of his body ached with this constant want and lately it seemed like his brain was hard wired to continuously defend his claim on Craig. They belonged together and everyone else needed to back the fuck away.

He was holding on tightly to those words. He wanted the setting to be just right. He hadn't imagined what their dates would be like, what scenario their first kiss would be in, or their first time baring themselves completely to each other. He could control when he said those words, though. At least he hoped so. There was only one annoying obstacle confronting Stan now.

This situation with the Secret Admirer letters was getting pretty goddamned ridiculous.

Every week now a new one showed up. Initially it was just no-pressure "I like you" type of stuff. Stan nearly had a conniption when last week the letter writer had the gall to ask for a saved dance. _A slow dance_. A slow dance?

"Craig, how is us dancing going to work at Prom?"

Craig whipped around with both fists clenched at his side and looked horrified at Stan. "Jesus Christ, Stan, you didn't think about that in advance before asking me to go?"

"You think I asked. How cute," Stan smirked and lazily rolled onto his back to stretch it.

Craig made a deflated sound. "Wait, if you didn't ask then technically we aren't going together." Stan rolled his eyes at the inherent smugness in Craig's voice.

"Yes we are," Stan snorted and stretched his arms above his head feeling his shirt ride up a little, "you said you wanted to do more coupley things and Prom constitutes as the epitome of coupley things during the course of our high school career."

"I'm sure there are other events during the three and a half years we haven't been doing this that we've missed out on that would trump something as banal as the fucking Prom, Stan," the bed dipped a little as Craig crawled on his knees to join him.

"Okay two points," Stan rolled back over onto his side and shifted to give Craig room to stretch out on his back, "one, we went to Homecoming together. You were totally dressed up for me and that reminds me that your tux _needs_ to have a vest."

Craig snorted in annoyance but didn't bat Stan's hand away as he began idly wandering it over his stomach.

"Second, if Prom is so banal then why are you fighting it like I insulted Stripe or something?"

Stan felt his smirk widen as Craig released a long suffering sigh and let his eyes glaze over.

"Stripe was a good guinea pig."

Stan leaned over to give him a consolatory kiss.

"I do _not_ feel comfortable dancing in front of everyone, Stan," Craig's eyes flashed sharp and clear at him.

Stan nodded. "I know. Slow dancing is crossing a line. Maybe if there's a couple of numbers everyone is just jumping around to we could do that without pissing off the chaperones."

Craig groaned again and stared at his ceiling. "Speaking of, they didn't say anything when you went to buy our tickets?"

Stan covered a yawn and dropped his weight to spoon up against Craig's side. Without thinking Craig's arm snaked around him.

"I actually hadn't done that yet," Stan grinned as he listened to him let out a contented sigh. "I'm going with Kyle tomorrow during lunch."

He felt Craig nod burrow his nose into his hair. Stan nearly laughed as he felt Craig's chest rise slowly and fall quickly. He couldn't repress his need to wriggle closer, though.

"Quit fidgeting around," Craig's voice deepened signaling he was in a very relaxed state.

"You're the one insisting on sniffing me."

Craig sputtered. "No I wasn't!"

"It's a new shampoo," Stan squeezed Craig's torso as his arm found a comfortable spot. "Shelly picked it out for me saying it would make my hair fuckable."

"So nice to be considered in your hygienic rituals," Craig murmured with amusement.

"That's the whole point," Stan laughed. "It's all for you, Craig."

Craig grunted in response.

The next day Stan stalked towards Craig's locker as usual first thing in the morning with the small hope of catching this letter writing bastard in the act. As usual, he was disappointed that no one was there and didn't show up between his arrival and Craig's. When Craig did show up sighing and with Clyde in tow Stan waited patiently while Craig spun in his combination. He knew it as well as his own but he respected Craig's privacy and refused to enter his boyfriend's locker without expressed permission. He was not, however, beyond snatching the bright, white envelope off the topmost shelf before Craig had fully opened the door.

"The fucker strikes again," he grumbled as Clyde shimmied closer to read the letter with him.

_Craig,_

_I hope you've had a good week so far. I've been watching you and it seems that you have. I wonder if you've given any thought to saving a dance for me at Prom. I couldn't help but notice, however, that you haven't purchased your tickets, yet. Maybe you aren't going to go? I really want to see you there. Maybe you don't have anyone to go with? I'd be more than happy to be your date! I guess you can't really ask me since I haven't told you how to contact me. Just know that I'll be there!_

_I hope you will, too._

_Your Secret Admirer_

"Creepy," Clyde grimaced as he finished the letter.

"No diggity," Stan frowned.

"No doubt," Clyde cheerily replied and the two bumped fists. Clyde had been kind of a pansy, wussy assed kid when they were in elementary school but seeing as he was Craig's best friend and his teammate the two had developed a special bond. They both liked Craig (well, Stan's like was completely different from Clyde's) and both hated these stupid letters.

Craig snatched the letter from Stan's hand and read it with a sneer. "If you hadn't fucking insisted on it I wouldn't even go to Prom."

"Ah, ah, ah," Clyde chided. "Remember your mother."

Craig groaned and crumpled the letter in his fist. "Seriously, I think it's some prank."

"Whatever," Stan crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes at the offending piece of paper in thought. He had seen every single one of these letters to know that it was from a girl. At first, he thought maybe it was a Goth kid taking their admiration just a little too far but after doing some reconnaissance work in their lair (Creative writing – third period) he learned that all of them were loathe to attend the function. They even made him work on his class exercises alone for the remainder of the week. Stan was still a little baffled that he had been iced out by the _Goth kids_.

He discussed the letter with Kyle between classes and during lunch on their way to the student office to buy their tickets to Prom. Kyle was taking Annie, again, but just as friends. He doubted his mother would approve of him seriously dating a girl so close to graduation or ever. Kyle agreed that the letters were coming from one of the girls in their school.

"She has to be a Senior, dude," Kyle shoved his hands into his pockets. "I mean, no underclassmen can get tickets unless they're going with a Senior."

"But all the girls in our grade went ballistic when Craig and I started hanging out, remember?"

Kyle shrugged his shoulder. "Maybe she was jealous. Or sensed your impending homosexcapades—"

"You have _got_ to stop listening to Kenny," Stan shook his head.

"—and felt threatened," Kyle continued without addressing the interruption. They reached the office waited while some Middle Park couple bought their tickets before stepping up in their place when they walked off. Mrs. Deems was manning the table and had a cash box, log book, and flowery looking writing and decorations on a stack of card stock tickets.

"Two for the Prom," Kyle said in a very bored voice as he fished out his wallet.

"Names?"

"Kyle Broflovski and Annie Faulk," Kyle handed over the money after she checked off their names and handed him two tickets. She gave him a smile and looked expectantly at Stan.

"Same. Two tickets."

"Names?"

"Stan Marsh and Craig Tucker," Stan said feeling equally bored as Kyle with this whole process of paying to dance in their poorly decorated, smelly gym.

"Oh," her voice faltered. "Um, Mr. Marsh I don't believe you can buy another boy's ticket."

"What?" Stan blinked at her. "Why not?"

"Well, if you two are going… stag as I'm sure you are he'll need to purchase his own ticket," she smiled warmly at him. "I understand Mr. Tucker doesn't like to attend these kinds of school functions but if he wants to go we'll need his presence here to get his ticket."

"And what if they aren't going stag," Kyle raised an eyebrow at her with a challenging voice.

"Well," she let her response hang in the air for a few moments. "Well, what else would they be going as?"

"_Together_," Kyle suggested tersely.

"He's my _date_," Stan narrowed his eyes at Mrs. Deems' folded hands.

She looked taken aback at the vehemence in his voice and fluttered a hand to cover her heart. "Well, Mr. Marsh! I just… I just don't know about that."

"This is bullshit," Stan felt his eyes bulging in disbelief. He'd really been looking forward to sharing this experience with Craig. After all, it was at Prom that he had hoped…

"You're kidding, right," Kyle's voice was reaching Sheila-level decibels interrupting Stan's thought processes.

"I'm afraid not," she shrugged with an apologetic tone to her voice but her body language clearly read she wasn't sorry at all.

"Then I want a refund," Kyle shoved the tickets back at her.

"Kyle," Stan placed a firm hand on his shoulder. "You don't have to. Craig really doesn't want to go anyway."

"My refund," Kyle pressed and under the force of his stare Mrs. Deems hastily took back the tickets and handed Kyle his money.

"You really didn't have to do that," Stan blinked at his best friend as Kyle began steering him by the shoulders and away from the line.

"That's seriously fucked up not letting you buy Craig's ticket," Kyle glowered. "I need to see Wendy. She's on the planning committee."

Stan gaped as Kyle continued steering him back towards the cafeteria. Once inside, Kyle guided him towards Craig's table and unceremoniously shoved him down in the vacated seat next to a very shocked Craig. "Stay here. I'll be right back."

Stan blinked and watched as his best friend navigated the cafeteria tables towards the one Wendy usually sat at. He felt Craig shift in his seat towards him a little and glanced at him briefly.

"What's going on," Clyde inquired.

"They wouldn't let me buy mine and Craig's tickets for Prom," Stan answered not taking his eyes off of Kyle and Wendy as they had their conversation. Wendy looked at him worriedly then frowned and began talking heatedly to an equally incensed Kyle. She stood up and the two stalked out of the cafeteria together.

"Why the hell not?"

"She just said 'I don't know about that' and wouldn't let me buy them," he turned to look at Craig. Craig was studying his face very carefully and underneath the table rested his knee against Stan's. To anyone else it would seem like an accidental touch but Craig's eyes read concern and the gesture brought Stan out of his bewildered state of mind. He looked down at the cafeteria spaghetti on Craig's tray and felt depressed.

"What the fuck? Not even when you claimed you were going stag again?" Clyde pressed. His voice growing increasingly irritated as he searched for information.

"She assumed we were," Stan couldn't help letting some sorrow into his voice and looked back at Craig to see his eyes were narrowed dangerously. "She said Craig would have to buy his own ticket and I said he's my date. Then she shut the door on the subject."

"And then what happened?" Clyde set his food down and was all but yelling at Stan by this point. He watched as Craig clenched his silverware before tearing his gaze away towards the opposite side of the table. Token, Kevin, and Clyde looked equally pissed off. In another circumstance, Stan would have poked Craig in the side and joked about how he had some really good friends and should be more appreciative.

Instead he sighed and dropped his head into his arms in a show of dejection. "Kyle asked for a refund and we came straight here."

"Then I will too," Clyde made to stand up. "That's seriously fucked up."

"Relax, Clyde," Kyle's voice carried over the table followed by the scent of Wendy's perfume. "We went and talked to the faculty just now."

Stan rotated his head so that his chin rested on his arms. He felt Craig pull back his knee and bump it against his again. It made him feel better.

"Did they say it was stupid and fix it?" Token glanced between them.

"No," Wendy flicked a piece of her hair behind her shoulder. "In fact, they supported it. I think its bogus even though I'm on the committee. I got our refund already, Token."

Token nodded and Clyde and Kevin stood up from the table.

"Where are you going," Kyle asked though his eyes looked like he already knew.

"Refunds," Clyde shrugged nonchalantly. "Coming, Tweek?"

"Oh Christ, we're going to make the school _soo_ mad," Tweek fidgeted as he stood up from the table banging his knee hard on the underside of it in the process. He nervously patted Craig's shoulder before following Clyde and Kevin out.

"You shouldn't skip out on Prom on account of us, guys," Stan blinked at his best friend. He actually felt better knowing that others were just as mad but he genuinely didn't want to get in the way of someone else's Senior memories.

"Relax, dumbass," Kyle grinned. "Wendy and I will think of something."

Stan looked towards Craig and saw awkward concern in his eyes. Stan sighed and tucked his head back into his arms feeling Wendy's small hand ruffle his hair and Kyle's arm sling around his shoulders in comfort. A part of him knew he was acting like a total douche bag but the other part was genuinely upset over the situation despite how girly it was. His depression only deepened as he felt Craig subtly inch closer – the only public show of support he was willing to offer. It spoke volumes to Stan, though. Craig was genuinely remorseful and Stan knew he'd try to cheer him up in his own Craigish way later on.

Still. It hurt.

"I _really_ wanted to go."

* * *

><p>In the end both of their circles of friends got refunds to the Prom. When the school called his parents at home Craig had to sit in the living room for three hours while his father yelled about him being a faggot and turning his and Stan's souls over to Satan. Once he got that out of his system his mother stood up and told his father to go fuck himself. Ruby hovered in the divide between the living room and the kitchen with her arms crossed and eyes narrowed at their father in a show of support. Craig felt a mixture of unease with the defamatory names and gratitude towards his mother and sister.<p>

Around dinner time the doorbell rang revealing the Marsh family on their doorstep with Mrs. Marsh holding an unplugged crock pot full of something warm and steaming in her kitchen mitt covered hands. She had a look of fierce protectiveness on her face and briskly entered the Tucker household with Craig's mom quick on her heels. They immediately began yelling in the kitchen between banging pots and opening and closing the refrigerator door. Shelly marched in on the heels of her mother and after flashing Craig an amused smile gently guided Ruby into the kitchen with her to make themselves useful. Mr. Marsh reluctantly entered with both of his hands in his pockets and eyes downcast. At the sight of him Craig's dad went into a rampage.

"How dare you bring your faggot son into my house where he's turned my son into a cock sucking queer!"

Craig felt his jaw go slack in shock and heard immediate silence from the kitchen as the women made their way to the divide in a dark cloud of anger. He blinked in surprise when Mr. Marsh gave them a stern look and held up a hand to signal them to stay put.

"Do you have any idea what this'll do to our family when the rest of town finds out they wanted to go to Prom together? They're _boys_. They _can't_. It ain't natural."

Craig looked towards the door and there he was. His face was puffy from misery and body rigid with the effort to show strength in front of Craig's father. Craig wanted nothing more than to go to him, tell his dad to go fuck himself, and either take Stan upstairs to his room and lock the door or straight outside to his car and just… drive. Fuck if he knew where. Just for a few hours until this stupid situation blew over. He hoped to God or whoever that Stan didn't cry over this because Craig knew as his knuckles clenched that he'd be out for everyone's blood if he did.

"With all due respect, Thomas," Craig looked at Mr. Marsh and held his breath, "I love my son very much. Sure, there is a lot that he and I have to talk about regarding this but that doesn't change the fact he means the world to me. And from what I can tell his relationship with your son isn't something to be easily dismissed. They seem to be rather serious—"

"_Dad_," Stan hissed and Craig felt his jaw clench at the sight of his eyes watering up.

"Stan," Mr. Marsh continued without breaking eye contact with Craig's dad. "Go upstairs with Craig so the rest of us can talk, okay? There's nothing more damaging than a child having to hear words that severs the bond with their parents."

"Come on, Squirt," Craig watched as Shelly smiled grimly and led Ruby through the living room, winking at Craig in the process, and towards the stairs. "Show me your room. We shouldn't be down here either."

"Go on Craig," his mother nodded. He looked towards her and felt warmed by the encouraging smile both he and Stan's mother were giving him. "We'll fetch you for dinner."

Craig mechanically stood up from his seat on the couch and felt his knees creaking from the three hour crouch he had done on it during his father's tirade earlier. He shoved one hand into the pocket of his hoodie and walked over to Stan to lightly tug on the front of his shirt with the other. Stan stood gasping, frightened, and shocked but seemed to sense Craig's presence and followed him as they went upstairs. Once he had closed the door behind them he grabbed Stan's hand and held on like they would float away from each other. He heard Stan swallow thickly and without conveying a single word, without breaking their small bit of contact, and completely in sync they climbed into Craig's bed. Stan pushed the pillows around a bit while Craig tugged up the covers both completely indifferent to the fact they were still wearing shoes. They huddled up in the blankets and each other simply breathing together and hoping with the other's presence they could climb out of this shell shock.

Craig didn't know how long they stayed like that. They could hear angry voices rising from downstairs. They could hear shuffling in Ruby's bedroom. Craig felt Stan's cell phone buzzing away in his jeans pocket and distantly heard his own muffled ring tone from his messenger bag. Stan tightened his grip on Craig and he let him. He could admit that he felt a little envious of Stan for having both of his parents supporting him. He was disappointed in his father and touched over his mother and sister.

He felt Stan nuzzle his hair and pull him closer still.

"I'm so sorry, Craig."

Craig nodded not sure of what to say. Despite the drama downstairs and surely circulating again throughout the school he felt safe in Stan's embrace.

"I'll make this right somehow, Craig," Stan pressed his lips to his forehead. "I promise."

Craig nodded again and tightened his hold on Stan. If he had to be ostracized for being a fag with anyone in the world he was glad that it was Stan.

"An Alterna-Prom," Clyde said smugly when they met as usual in the school parking lot the next morning.

"That's Broflovski and Testaburger's big idea?" Craig sighed and rubbed sleepily at his eyes. He did not want to talk about this especially since the previous night had been as much of an emotional roller coaster as Craig was able to stand. The last thing he wanted to deal with was an Alterna-Prom.

Clyde shrugged. "It's actually going to be better. We are still dressing up but instead of going to the school's gym we're holding it at Token's. His parents agreed to it so long as it becomes a type of lock-in. No one out until seven in the morning. Token's dad said he'd make everyone breakfast."

Craig snorted. That actually sounded kind of cool. The Tokens weren't ignorant to the fact that several parties had been held at their house. Craig assumed they agreed to it because this way they'd have advance notice and finally had an excuse to update their home theatre system.

"I bet Stan's over the moon," Clyde grinned brightly before it faltered a little as Craig's demeanor soured. Just has he began feeling better about their situation Stan's sister came into his room to tell them it was time for Stan to go around one in the morning. Craig didn't get a wink of sleep after that feeling like an extension of his self was missing and didn't appreciate in the slightest how his bed smelled so much like Stan. For a few minutes he panicked that he wouldn't be able to continue seeing him. His mother must've had a fine tuned sense to know when he was bordering on his first ever panic attack because she appeared seemingly out of nowhere to soothingly stroke his back. She told him she loved him, that she loved Stan, and that she wanted nothing more than to see him happy.

"You've been so happy, Craig," she smiled at him. "It's all thanks to Stan."

Craig felt the air get lighter as his feet begrudgingly treaded towards his locker. He knew Stan would be there and sure enough he was. Stan looked just as worn out and tired as Craig felt. He was nodding along as Broflovski talked animatedly to McCormick apparently explaining the Alterna-Prom. When Stan's eyes met his he finally felt whole again.

"Hey," tired blue eyes smiled at him.

Craig nodded. He really wanted to ditch and go back to either of their beds and sleep until graduation.

"So I take it Clyde told you about the Alterna-Prom," Broflovski smiled at him.

Craig nodded again. "I don't know, guys. Doesn't it seem like a lot of work for very little gain?"

He felt his gut drop at the frown on Stan's face. Craig grimaced. He and Stan didn't have to go to Prom. If Stan wanted to dance with him he'd let him in the privacy of their own homes but making everyone else miss out seemed kind of selfish to him.

"Really? That's oddly considerate of you," Clyde grinned at him. Craig blinked.

"Did I say that out loud?"

"You must be _very_ tired," Broflovski smiled sympathetically. "Stan told us the school called your parents."

McCormick laughed and patted Craig on the shoulder. "Sucks about your dad but isn't it cool that the Marshes are okay?"

Craig gave him a questioning look.

"Randy's a temperamental drunk is all I'm saying," McCormick waved his hand around and moved back over near Broflovski. "Pretty cool for him to step up for you guys."

Craig looked at Stan and offered a small, tired smile. "Yeah. It was kinda cool."

Stan's entire attitude changed from slightly withdrawn to outright ecstatic. He barreled into Craig wrapping his strong arms around him in a tight hug.

"_Craig_," he breathed into his ear. "Let's go to the Alterna-Prom."

"Fuck, Stan," Craig felt his skin heat up from the public show of affection and the monster trapped deep inside of him that was thrilled to feel Stan's warmth again. "Okay, okay. I get it now _get off_."

"Ooh," Token's voice piped up. "Not at my house you won't." Craig managed to successfully wrestle the laughing Stan off of him and rubbed at his shoulder in irritation when Token handed him a key looped through a heavy keychain.

"What's this?" Craig held out his hand letting Token drop it into his palm.

"My parents said to give you a spare key to the house in case you needed to crash while your family chills," Token shrugged.

"Thanks," Craig mumbled and pocketed it. Token shrugged again.

"All right," Broflovski stretched his arms above his head. "Let's get to classes, guys."

Everyone groaned while Craig deftly spun his combination into his locker. He began organizing his books when he felt Stan's warmth pressed against his side. He looked up to see Stan cross armed and glaring inside his locker.

"I don't fucking believe this," he glowered and bumped a little into Craig as he snatched a familiar envelope from the topmost shelf. Craig sighed and watched as he ripped it open with more gusto than required and leaned in with the rest of their group to read the letter.

_Craig,_

_I'm writing sooner than usual to let you know I heard about you and Stan Marsh trying to go to Prom together. I know there have been rumors about the two of you for a while but surely this isn't true. Did you really expect to get to go to the last social event of your senior year with another guy?_

_After sharing my feelings with you I feel betrayed. I really like you. I think we'd be really good together. You and I are so much more compatible than you and Stan Marsh. Don't you remember his reputation?_

_I've bought you a ticket to Prom in hopes that you'll go with me. I've heard rumors of a secondary Prom that Wendy and Kyle Broflovski are arranging but I hope you'll go to the regular Prom with me. If you don't then I can't guarantee to be able to keep your and Stan's secret. I highly doubt the rest of the student body will be as accepting as the top two in the class seem to be (shocking since Wendy was a major slut for Stan.)_

_Please reconsider,_

_Your Secret Admirer_

"Who _the fuck_ is this chick to threaten Craig like this," Stan scowled and grumbled under his breath.

"A little melodramatic piece of work if you ask me," Clyde snorted. "Kenny, if you would please?"

"With pleasure," McCormick grinned as he held the paper between two fingers and fished out a lighter and ignited the tip of the letter. The group watched on in silence. Craig swallowed thickly feeling incredibly uncomfortable with the letter situation now. It was easy to ignore them at first but this one definitely crossed a line. He didn't say anything back to his father and his harsh words because despite the disappointment he felt he was still his father. He could take anything others wanted to say to him but he wouldn't tolerate some bimbo saying these kinds of things about Stan.

Stan continued to grumble under his breath and made a reach for Craig. Craig's eyes flew open and he took a step backwards out of reach. For a moment Stan looked shocked like he didn't understand what had happened before he looked at Craig with an expression that left no room for negotiation.

"Craig, get over here."

"_No_," Craig spat automatically. He felt his fists curling and shoved them deep into the pockets of his hoodie to keep from slugging Stan. Craig was a little emotionally maxed out and this was not the time to be all territorial with the events from the previous night still stark clear in his mind.

"Then stand still," Stan almost growled as he swiftly closed the distance between them. Before Craig could catch up Stan's hands were locked around the base of his skull and mouth completely attached to his.

Traffic came to a complete stand still in the hallway and Craig vaguely recalled they were in the busiest junction between the two main hallways. He should have been mortified, pulled out his fists, and take them to every square inch of Stan's body. Instead, his eyes closed and he audibly sucked in a breath of air before clearly leaning into Stan's hold over him. Stan's grip shifted so that his fingers slipped deliciously over Craig's scalp while his palms cradled his head carefully. It was a move Stan had perfected with Craig over the past few months because it was Craig's favorite. No matter how much spitting, biting, or fussing Craig did at Stan all the agile athlete had to do was put his hands in just the right spot and Craig melted like butter on an over heated skillet.

A chorus of gasps rung in Craig's ear forcing him to open his eyes and break their kiss. Teachers and students were standing still with gaping mouths and shocked expressions. Somewhere in the distance he could heard Cartman's laughter. He felt his face redden as he realized he had let his hands escape the confines of his pockets and slip around Stan's hips to pull him closer.

"Wow," Stan breathed and looked into Craig's eyes with his own looking a little unfocused. "That was awesome."

"_You kissed me in public you fucker_," Craig hissed before snapping his fist back and aiming it for Stan's face. Before it could connect Stan's steady palm flew up and met it with a resounding smack. He let his fingers fall over Craig's knuckles and the back of his hand in a soothing gesture. Craig felt furious and bewildered when Stan had the audacity to smirk before morphing it into the sappiest smile he had ever seen.

"I love you."

The effect was immediate. Craig deflated and untangled himself from Stan's grasp. He stood in place for one moment studying the formation of Stan's lips, the glow in his eyes, and expression that read Stan hadn't expected to let him know about his feelings in this particular way but he didn't regret a thing. Craig felt like Stan had set off an atomic bomb inside of his chest. With every visible millimeter of his skin turning red he ducked his hands into his pockets, spun around on his heels, and marched towards his Photography class plowing through the student body like Moses parting the Red Sea.

He breezed into the classroom and went straight to his usual table and put his head down in his arms. He focused on the brown table top and willed his breathing to quit coming out in gasping puffs. Just as he managed to calm himself down some he heard the echo of Stan's words in his ears and the look on his face right after he had said them so genuine and heartfelt. He could see he truth in his eyes and closed his own as he brought his arms tighter around his face.

He was in love with Stan, too.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Well! We had to address the parents and that usual fodder of acceptance. Now we've got the L word popping up after much pussy footing on the subject. Poor Stan and his failed plans.

The next chapter is definitely the last. I'm positively giddy over the fact I'm completing two fics in the same fandom. Seriously, it is surreal for me having only completed one fic in the far distant past, well, for the same fandom, rather. Not this one! Whatever.

I'd also like to point out I was recently sent a fan art that goes with this story! It is super cute and I'd like to thank ObanesHarvest for it. Please check out my profile for the link to it!


	8. Ceremony

For Gentlemen Only

Chapter Eight: Ceremony

Prom is a night for magic so… just what does that make an Alterna-Prom? Graduation is here and its time to address that fork in the road.

* * *

><p>"I like this one with the coat tails," Stan mused over a rack along the back wall. "He'll look sophisticated."<p>

"Adorable like a penguin you mean," Craig's mom chirruped. She shuffled through some selections on an adjoining rack and gasped when she found one she liked. "Look at the cut on this one. He'll look so svelte."

Stan abandoned his rack in favor of looking at Craig's mom's suggestion and nodded. "He's already thin but it'll make his shoulders look stronger. Craig, try it on for us." Stan looked at him holding out the clothing item without batting an eyelash.

Craig remained seated on the stool in a pair of black slacks, white dress shirt with the collar undone, and crossed his arms over the form fitting baby blue vest his mother managed to dig up that matched Stan's eyes _perfectly_. He had determinedly rolled up the sleeves on the shirt to above his elbows with his legs splayed half in a show of protest and half because the dress shoes on his feet kept fucking slipping on the carpet.

He huffed at Stan in response.

Stan made a Face and Craig let out a long suffering sigh as he stood up. He made a point to tower over Stan as he snatched the offending piece of clothing from his hands and wrenched it from its hangar.

"Love you," Stan sang with a grin. Craig growled and turned his back as he swung the tuxedo jacket around his body threading his arms through the sleeves. He caught his mother's winking eye and blanched before she resumed the Hunt.

To say she had been ecstatic over their little Alterna-Prom was an understatement. After Stan declared his love towards Craig in the middle of the hallway the day after the school refused to let them go to Prom together she and Mrs. Marsh had visited the Principal's office. The Principal claimed their relationship was disrupting the learning process and encouraged both mothers to intervene and put it to an end. It was upsetting for the community and called into question the appropriateness of Mr. Garrison continuing his career as an educator if he was turning some of his students "to his side." Never mind the fact they hadn't been in one of Garrison's class since like… fifth grade.

Clyde cheerfully notified Craig that you could hear the mothers' reprimands all the way in the locker room.

Craig sighed loudly as he removed the jacket, properly rolled down the dress shirt sleeves then put the jacket on again. He picked at non-existent dust with a sneer and turned around.

"Oh, Craig, baby," his mother swooned. Stan gave an approving, tight lipped smile and puffed out his chest a little. Craig rolled his eyes and shifted his weight to one side. He knew Stan was harboring some delusion of showing off Craig to all their friends like he was a lady on his arm in the 1930s. "You look like one of those models in Vogue."

Stan laughed. "You've done a great job with him. He's super hot."

Craig glared at the oblivious duo as they discussed whether to go with a bow tie or regular tie and the antique cufflinks passed down from his grandfather that he had to wear. Stan laughed at something silly his mom said and caught Craig's eye. He shot him a soft smile and asked about his own ensemble. Craig blinked and sat back down thankful that Stan had taken enough mercy on him to let him rest for a bit.

_I love you._

Craig sighed discreetly and scratched his scalp. He thought it would be incredibly weird to keep listening to Stan say those words but it wasn't. He actually chided himself for continuing to be surprised at the ease with which he became accustomed to each new element introduced into their relationship. He had fretted over Stan trying to kiss him yet took to it like a duck in water. He had been anxious about getting an erection because of Stan and having Stan take care of them but now couldn't even fathom as to why he was so hesitant in the first place. He had been so aware of Stan's presence before and now he was like an extension of his own body. Then those words had happened.

He had promised Stan to do more coupley things and part of that was having normal conversations about things like feelings and emotions. Craig knew he loved Stan. He just kept missing every opportunity to say it. He made a pact with himself to man up and say it back at least before their Alterna-Prom was over. That way Stan could be as gay as he wanted to with him before graduation and then they could finally have a serious talk about college.

He tapped his lips with his fingers and thought for a moment what it would be like to live with Stan. Smelly, their apartment in constant disarray, but Craig would be well fed. Stan had little in the way of domesticity going for him but he was a wonderful cook. Craig sighed and leaned back against a display cabinet of pocket watches and handkerchiefs. He'd be responsible for managing their finances and ensuring they got to classes on time. He'd probably have to set cleaning rules and do laundry on a daily basis. Even if he left Stan in charge of the kitchen he was fairly certain he'd have to check their groceries, too.

But they wouldn't have anyone to interrupt them. They could get through a movie without having to hurry up and make out or jerk each other off before a parent got home. They wouldn't have to play grab ass when they thought no one was looking. Craig smirked to himself. He could grab Stan's ass whenever he wanted if they lived together. It would be all too easy to fall into Stan's terrible habits regarding procrastination so he would have to master that part of himself inclined to laze about.

He could make the noises he always wanted to when Stan gave him head rubs.

"What's got you over here looking so smirky?" Stan crouched beside him in a similar outfit Craig sported only with a dark, slate gray vest with matching pencil neck tie. Craig exhaled as he gave Stan a slow appraisal. His smirk grew in spite of himself.

"Good color on you."

Stan laughed and looked him in the eyes. "Blue goes well with gray."

"I guess it does," Craig looked away.

"It's hard to find one that matches your eyes, though," Stan sighed dramatically. "They change hues some times."

"Oh?"

Stan smiled at him leaning in for a soft kiss. "Yeah."

Craig felt his temper flare up over the fact Stan dared to kiss him in front of his _mother_ of all people when he heard her clear her throat. Craig looked at her mortified causing her to laugh.

"Boys, we have a lot to decide still," she smirked the same smirk Craig did and held up an array of baby blue ties. "The pencil tie looks great on you, Stan. Which one is Craig wearing?"

Stan made a thoughtful noise and pointed at the standard tie. "That one and I think he should wear a tie chain."

Craig gave Stan an exasperated look. "What the fuck are you dolling me up for?"

"Craig, language," his mother warned though everyone knew it was a lost cause.

"I just want you to look nice for our Prom, snuggle muffin," Stan beamed.

Craig froze for a moment before launching to his feet so quickly he caused both of the store attendants to flinch. He checked himself and glared at his very smug looking boyfriend.

"Fine but drop the nicknames, Stan."

"Sure, honey drop."

"Stan, I _swear to God…_"

He frowned as Stan and his mother laughed. "He's so cute when you get him mad like that."

"Yeah he is," Stan teased and let his mother fuss over the tie. Craig had to stoop awkwardly so she could fix it in a Windsor knot. He sighed feeling like a trapped animal and glanced around the store for some source of amusement or distraction while his mother and Stan finished their visit to the torture chamber of tuxedo rentals. He felt her pat his chest as she finished and looked down at the tie out of habit only to see the sad look on his mother's face.

"Mom," he said stupidly before she laughed and wiped at her eyes.

"Craig, you're growing up so fast," she smiled at him and sniffled. "You'll be done with high school in less than a month then be off at college with Stan to take care of you instead of me." Her voice broke at the mention of college and she outright sobbed mentioning Stan. Craig's eyes flew open and he looked helplessly at his mother before pulling her close for a tight hug. He looked searchingly to Stan who only stood to the side and watched the scene like it amused him for reasons completely other than that Craig was completely flustered. Say what you want about a guy but crying moms were tough to deal with for anybody.

He didn't know what to say so he just continued to pat her back until she got a hold of herself and squeezed him before stepping back. She laughed as she wiped at his jacket. "I don't want to stain it with my misery."

"You still have Ruby, you know," Craig offered her a smile. "The nest isn't completely empty."

She nodded. "I know but I'll miss having you around. You've grown into a fine young man, sweetheart."

Craig stuck his hands into his pockets and felt more like a little boy than he ever had in his entire life watching the woman who brought him into the world, raised him the best she could, and supported him 110% poke at a display of tie chains with the person who had altered his world so much yet fit it completely.

Craig, his mother, and Ruby arrived at the Marshes' around six thirty on the day of the Alterna-Prom (not-so-coincidentally on the same day as regular Prom.) His dad stayed behind still refusing to talk to Craig and marking off the days until Craig's move out on a calendar over his tool bench in the garage. Their mothers wanted to make sure they looked their best and matched just the way Stan had wanted them to. Craig spent little time getting ready and sulked in a corner of Stan's room while he waited for the Marsh siblings to finish messing with Stan's hair. When they were done Stan entered his room with a nervous smile and held his arms out in front of Craig.

"How do I look?"

Craig appraised him and smirked softly. "Not too bad."

"Great, because its your turn," Stan hooked a beefy arm under Craig's arm pit and practically dragged him into the bathroom to Shelly's awaiting station. She grinned at him like a feral cat and hooked her finger at him.

"Come here, my pretty. Momma's gonna make you a star."

Craig shamelessly whimpered.

Shelly poked, prodded, did something with a flat iron, and surprisingly added very little product to his hair. Once she was done she gestured for him to turn around and look in the mirror. Stan shimmied in and it was almost slap-your-knee funny how his shit eating grin melted off his face into an expression of complete surprise.

"Holy fuck, Craig. Why do you get to be such a sexy beast with so little effort?"

"Stan," Craig sighed and focused on Stan's reflection instead of his own. "You should know that if you make any more comments like that from now until forever I'm going to have 'Queer as Fuck' tattooed on your forehead."

"Shut up and look at your reflection, you faggot," Shelly huffed at him as she began cleaning up her irons.

Craig took a deep breath and looked at his reflection. An uncertain looking figure with narrow shoulders stared back at him. Under the lights around the mirror the baby blue seemed to meld perfectly with his body and didn't make the tie chain look as gaudy as it had when he first saw it. His hair was shinier and straighter arranged around his head to make him look much older than he really was. Shelly had trained his bangs to remain tastefully over his forehead and throw his eyes into slight shadow while making them stand out piercing and strong. He raised his eyebrows slightly in surprise. He did look good.

"Don't go getting alarmed like that," Shelly grumbled and swatted stray hairs from his shoulder. "You're supposed to look cool and stoic and badass. Not frightened, caged rabbit."

"You definitely earned your stylists' license, Shel," Stan continued to stare at Craig in amazement.

"Yeah, yeah, I know," she sniffed derisively. "If you make it look good I'll get a huge tip from dad and the Mazda next weekend so strut your stuff."

The worst part of the evening was marching down the stairs to their parents' oohing and aahing. Once the obligatory complimenting was over the mothers pulled out their cameras and began shuffling the boys where they wanted them for photos. Craig looked around the living room just thinking about how much he wished this was already over. Mrs. Marsh was brushing something off of Craig's sleeve when Stan made a small noise and turned to him.

"This is the first time we're going out to an event as a couple together," Stan's eyes seemed to sparkle with this realization as if the night would be irrefutable proof that they had ceased being Stan and Craig and were officially – them. Together. All dressed up, surrounded by people who loved and supported them, and approaching the divide between childish fears and dreams and on to independence and the real world. Craig felt a jolt of terror and grasped Stan's hand. Stan squeezed it back giving him a small, knowing smile in return.

Craig looked at him and felt his lips part. "Stan, I—"

"Okay you two," Mrs. Marsh sang, "let's make it a good one." Craig took a shuddering breath. Side by side with Stan he turned towards the camera and smiled.

The party was in full swing by the time they arrived at the Black residence. Craig was surprised they were greeted by cheers. Looking around the formal dinning room converted to a dance floor Craig couldn't help but be impressed. Lights and metallic streamers were tastefully strung giving the room a fun and intimate atmosphere. Before he realized it Stan had yanked on his arm and together they dived straight into the middle of the modest crowd. Their friends were there with their dates. Everyone was laughing and dancing (or in Tweek's case doing something jittery that happened to follow the beat.) Craig looked at Stan grinning while making a complete ass of himself and chuckled.

"Oh what the hell," he shrugged.

Craig Tucker _danced_.

The upbeat music went on for nearly forever with everyone laughing, no one really attached to one particular person, but everyone having a good time. For some reason a male-slut dance competition happened during a set of songs that left Craig smirking and biting his lower lip a little each time he caught Stan hungrily looking at him while he danced with someone else. Stan cajoled Kyle into doing some lewd, might-as-well-be-a-stripper dance with him while Clyde did a bump and grind with Craig that ended after two songs when Kenny ran out of Monopoly money. Against his better judgment, Craig did take up a song with Kenny but it was cut short when Stan barreled over Token to swat his friend away when Kenny purposefully grabbed Craig's ass with both hands. Stan looked furious but Craig laughed just softly enough in his ear to distract him into finishing the dance with him. By the time the lights lowered and Mr. Black snuck in to switch over the playlist to some slow tracks Stan breathlessly dragged Craig to the side so they could sit and drink some water.

"Never will I ever forget," Stan puffed between gulps, "the sight of you doing a mock cha-cha with Wendy Testaburger."

Craig looked down and laughed. "This was actually fun."

"I can tell," Stan raised his eyebrows and lifted his bottle of water to his lips.

A creamy pink gloved hand swooped in from their right and knocked it loudly to the floor. The dance floor stilled as Stan slowly stood up shaking the access water from his left sleeve. Craig narrowed his eyes at the culprit and sneered.

"What's crawled up _your ass_, Millie?"

She stomped her high heeled feet towards him and glared. "I can't take it anymore, Craig. I want you to dance with _me_."

"Ey," Cartman lumbered over from the buffet table and pointed at her. "You're my date, Millie. Craig's got his boyfriend here as his date. You can't dance with him!"

"Shut the fuck up, Cartman," she huffed. "I only agreed to come with you after I heard _Craig_ was going to be here."

"You have got to be kidding me," Craig clicked his tongue and looked at Stan. "You okay?"

"Um, yeah," Stan answered uncertainly. "Is this what I think it is?"

Millie rounded on Stan with a murderous glare. "I've liked Craig for so much longer than you! This isn't fair at all!"

"To be fair," Stan grinned though the shock was still apparent on his face, "you shoved your tongue down my throat way before I got mine down his."

Millie squeaked indignantly.

"You're the one who sent Craig those letters," Clyde stepped forward and narrowed his eyes at her.

"What about it, _Clyde_?"

"You are such a haughty bitch," Craig hissed under his breath. Millie was close enough to hear it and looked at him with a hurt expression.

"Of course I've been sending you letters. I've been trying to get your attention this _whole time_," she whined looking on the verge of tears.

"Look," Craig stood up and lowered his voice as much as he could despite the fact everyone was watching this train wreck. "Everyone is having a good time. _I'm_ having a good time. Don't ruin it by putting yourself on the spot like this."

"Because you're with Stan?"

Craig nodded.

"So you really are boyfriends?"

Craig made a hesitating sound. "Yes. We are."

He watched as Millie's eyes began watering while she digested this information.

"I turned down better offers than Eric Cartman for the chance we could have one song tonight," she hiccupped. Wendy maneuvered through their group of friends and patted Millie on the shoulder consolingly.

"Come on, Millie, let's get a little fresh air, okay?"

Millie sniffed and yanked away from her to look at Craig again.

"You like _him_? You like him more than _me_? Or any other girl for that matter?"

Craig looked at Stan. Stan wore an expression of pity as he watched Millie but when he turned to Craig he straightened his back and looked at Craig just daring him to say _it_. Craig blinked and looked at Millie again with a small smile.

"Something like that. Maybe a little more, yeah."

Millie let out a loud, painful sob at the same time McCormick let out a low whistle. Wendy looked at him with smug amusement before gently guiding Millie into another room. Token cleared his throat and switched the music player back to some upbeat tracks. Everyone happily played along getting back into the groove only wearing secretive smiles and rolling their eyes thinking the same thing, _About fucking time_.

Stan tugged on Craig's elbow guiding him out of the room. He made an impatient noise that clued to Craig that what he wanted was some privacy but didn't know where to go. Craig then took over and led Stan upstairs and into one of the guest rooms Token told him he could use to crash in for the night. As soon as the door was closed Stan pounced on him kissing his lips, his cheeks, his neck, his _everywhere_. Craig pulled him tighter and kissed him deeply on the mouth forcing Stan to slow down. They pulled apart for air and rested their foreheads together while they fought to catch their breath.

"I know it's incredibly gay but I need to hear you _say it_, Craig," Stan looked at him with his mouth hanging open.

Craig nodded and looked straight into his eyes. Their breathing stilled at the same moment and Craig realized it was going to be easier to say it than he thought. Thinking it felt natural, right and the most absolute truth.

"I love you."

"I love you, too," Stan breathed a smile and kissed him gently. Craig wanted time to stand still. Not even the minor hiccup with Millie had put a damper on his unusually good mood. Stan always made him feel better.

Until he broke apart and dragged him back downstairs to be sociable again. At least for a few hours before Mr. Black broke out the pancakes. After all, Craig was learning all over again that sometimes you can go down fighting with your fists flying and teeth bared. Other times, you just had to shrug and give in and just let things _happen_.

* * *

><p>"Commencement marks the transition from childhood into adulthood. We're more responsible now not just for ourselves but each other. We've gone through our entire childhood together as friends, as enemies, and something in-between. None of that matters now. What matters is living up to our own expectations and exceeding that of others. We are the architects of our own destinies but no matter where we go we shouldn't ever forget where we came from."<p>

_Typical Wendy_, Stan thought as he applauded her off the stage.

"We're done. _Finally_. We can spend this time reflecting on words other people have said and dream about all of the good things to come. The fact of the matter is that the journey isn't over. It's going to be really, really hard and hopefully just as long. What we should take from the high school experience is that nothing ever goes how you think it will and nothing lasts forever. The people you're friends with now may not be your friends next year. Graduation has a funny way of changing people; of putting distance between the 'been there, done that' and moving forward to the next stage. For most of us that next stage seems like a bleak continuation of what we've just accomplished. For others it's the start of new opportunities that weren't possible before. Where ever it is that life takes you these roots are inescapable. But for now? Let's get the heck outta dodge."

Stan laughed with the rest of their class as Kyle backed away from the podium to take his place in the stands. One by one the graduates were called forth to walk the stage, shake hands with the school board directors, and accept that tiny envelope denoting the achievement they were celebrating. Stan nervously twirled his cords and glanced back at Craig fiddling with his own. Their eyes met briefly as they shared a secret smile.

There were still things to decide over the summer before they both headed off to the University of Colorado in Denver. Would they have to take different paths when they got to the fork in the road in August? Or could Stan convince Craig to not let go of his hand in exchange for letting him pick left or right?

As he licked his lips nervously and accepted his diploma he smiled into the camera letting the moment be preserved for scrap books and picture frames and reunions to come.

It wasn't a rainy day, Sunday, some stupid ass holiday, or Randomly-Inspirational-Guest-Speaker-in-Psychology Day. It was high school graduation, another page in the book of life turned, and even the usual craziness in South Park wasn't interfering. The point is…

It was a Saturday afternoon in June among friends, family, and being in love with _Craig Tucker_ of all people when Stan Marsh found himself stepping off of one stage and into another – smiling.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** The End! Sad face? I might have gotten a little teary eyed finishing this because it's been my baby since June, guys. Now it's yours. I hope you all liked this. I know it was kind of winded at parts but my goal the whole time was to write out a legit relationship and I feel very successful with that.

Okay, so this is the last chapter and… seriously thank you guys for the response to this fic and I hope that it'll cover any reviews and favs this fic receives after this. Thanks so much!


End file.
